Swift Whispers
by AmeriCanada Love
Summary: Sometimes being neighbours with the most obnoxious boy you've ever met can be tough, especially when it's Alfred F. Jones. But what do you do when he starts acting extremely odd around you? Matthew Williams is about to find out. Eventual USxCan
1. Swift Greetings

Wow, it's been a while since I've wrote a fanfiction. Hello, Neko here! How's everyone doing today? This is my first attempt at a fluff story, so I would **REALLY** appreciate any comments/constructive criticism/pointers/you get the point. :D

Now, one thing I want to tell you all… this will NOT be an instant UsXCan fic. There's going to be a lot of road bumps, twists, and turns along the way, so if you want an instant Alfred and Matthew love fix, you've come to the wrong place. =\ There will also be no yaoi in this story, since I am very uncomfortable describing sexual scenes. (That's a long story I really don't want to get into now.) So if you're after hot UsXCan sex, this is also the wrong place.

**However**, if you want a genuine love story between two friends, this is the story for you! :D

Also, this story is pre-written. If I find just one person interested in it, I'll update the next chapter on Friday, and then every Friday I'll post another chapter. So sit back, relax, and I hope you enjoy!

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><p>Chapter 1 - Swift Greetings<p>

"Alfred Foster Jones Jr., get in here before I drag you in by your ear," Mrs. Jones yelled from the back porch. Alfred cringed and put his superheroes in the sandbox.

"Coming mommy!" the nine-year-old boy called back, dusting the sand off his pants and dashing across his soaked backyard over to the porch.

"Take off your shoes before you come in. I don't want little piggy tracks on my newly waxed floor," Mrs. Jones scolded, staring at Alfred's muddy feet. "And don't think you're going to look like that when your aunt and uncle get here. I want you to march upstairs and wash right now."

"Aww, but mooooom," Alfred moaned. "I just took a bath this morning."

"Tough," Mrs. Jones spat. "You're going to behave yourself as well, am I clear?"

Alfred rolled his eyes. "Yes, ma'am."

Mrs. Jones chose to ignore her son's rude gesture and strode into the kitchen. Alfred grumbled under his breath as he pulled his sneakers off without untying them. He wiggled his toes trapped in his socks and slid across the kitchen floor. His dad flipped to the next page of the newspaper.

"Hey, daddy, you'll never guess what I saw today," Alfred jumped on the chair next to his father.

"What son?" Mr. Jones humored his son without looking away from the paper.

"That sign next door, you know how it's said "for sale" for like… forever?" He paused and waited for his father's answer. After a moment, he continued, "It has a 'sold' sticker on it now!"

"That's nice," Mr. Jones replied, flipping the page.

"I wonder who's moving next to us," Alfred mused. "I bet Superman had his cover blown and he has to move here? Or maybe Batman had to get a new headquarters because Robin needed to go to our community college. Oh, I know who it is. Sabretooth is hiding out here and Wolverine's gonna ask me to-"

"Didn't your mother ask you to take a bath?" Mr. Jones interrogated and peeked over the top of his paper for a brief moment.

Alfred wondered if his dad heard anything he said. "Well… she did, but-"

"Go," Mr. Jones returned to his paper, waving his hand to urge the boy away. Alfred wanted to protest, but sighed and slinked to the staircase. He took one last look at his father turning another page of the newspaper and crawled up the stairs to the bathroom.

~USCan~

"Ouch? Mom, that hurts!" Alfred hissed as his mom dug the comb into his scalp. She doused more gel on his hair and fought with the strand of hair still sticking straight up on her son's head. For a moment, she succeeded, until it sprung back up seconds later.

She let out an exasperated groan. "That stupid strand of hair…"

"But I like Nantucket," Alfred murmured.

"Nantucket? You named it," Mrs. Jones questioned.

"Well, yeah." Alfred replied, "It kind of looks like that island by Massachusetts, don't you think?"

Mrs. Jones pinched the bridge of her nose. "Whatever. Just don't tell your Aunt and Uncle that you named your hair. They'll think you're a loon."

Alfred sighed. "Of course." She walked out of the room and headed down the stairs. Alfred looked in the mirror and wrinkled his nose. His hair was slicked back so much he looked like a Nazi from World War 2. His mother dressed him in a white turtleneck sweater and a blue sweater vest with red and white diagonal lines going across it. His black dress pants draped over his black dress. Alfred knew that the first thing he was going to do after his aunt and uncle left was burying the clothes in the backyard along with the other clothes he hated.

"Alfred, present yourself immidiently," Mrs. Jones called from downstairs. "Our guests are here."

"Showtime," Alfred muttered and opened his door. As he descended the staircase, he could see his Aunt and Uncle along with his older cousin.

"My, doesn't he look dashing, Elizabeth," his aunt commented. "He looks just like his dad, but with your eyes."

"Doesn't he?" Mrs. Jones replied, her eyes twinkling.

"He's going to be a handsome lad," she replied. "But he's going to have to do something about that lock of hair."

"I tried everything, Jane, but the accursed thing won't stay down," Mrs. Jones moaned.

Alfred nodded to his uncle to acknowledge his presence; his uncle returned the gesture. He turned to his cousin.

"Hey, Arthur," Alfred greeted.

"Hello, Alfred," Arthur replied. There was a four-year difference between Arthur and Alfred, but they were virtually the same height. "I see you're looking well."

"Yeah," Alfred looked at his cousin's hands and grabbed one of them. "Wanna come outside and play superheroes with me?"

"No, thank you."Arthur pulled his hands out of his cousin's grasp. "I don't play superheroes anymore."

"You… don't?" Alfred replied, cocking his head. "But you loved them last time you came to visit."

"That was when I was 11," Arthur replied. "But now I'm 13, and that changes things. I'm a young gentleman now and must behave as such."

Alfred cocked an eyebrow. "What have they been feeding you, Raisin _Bland_? Why would you want to grow up anyway?"

Arthur's hair bristled a bit. "I'll have you know that growing up is a part of life, and everyone must do it sooner or later."

"Well, I'm going to be a kid forever," Alfred replied, sticking out his tongue. "I want to go to Neverland and fight Captain Hook and fly around and never grow up."

"Poppycock," Arthur grumbled. "Those are only fairy tales."

"And this is coming from the same guy who thinks he sees fairies," Alfred teased.

"I told you they're REAL!" Arthur huffed. He looked up at his mother and flinched, realizing he'd said too much.

"Excuse my son," Mrs. Kirkland cleared her throat and continued to talk to her sister. "He's having a bit of trouble letting go of his imaginary friends. That's why I wanted to talk to you. Since his brothers all moved out of the house, he's been talking to these _creatures_ to keep himself company."

"I see," Mrs. Jones said, taking a sip of her tea. "Poor boy."

"That's where I thought maybe you could help. He and Alfred seem to get along quite well. Winston and I thought maybe if he stayed here over the summers that he would slowly forget about his… _friends_. What do you say?"

"It would be no trouble at all," Mrs. Jones replied. "What do you say, dear?" Mr. Jones grunted in approval without taking his eyes off the television screen. "Junior?"

"What?" Alfred spat after arguing with Arthur.

"Would you like if Arthur stayed here for the rest of the summer?"

"What?" Alfred jumped off the floor to look at his mother. Her stern look reminded him to mind his manners. "Oh um… yeah, that'd be cool." The words burned his throat like poison.

"Then it's settled. Arthur will remain here in the states and then go back home once school starts back up in the United Kingdom." Mrs. Jones bloomed with excitement. "I promise he'll be quite happy here. He can stay in the guest bedroom."

"That's wonderful," Mrs. Kirkland mused. "Oh, look at the time, Winston. We better go to our hotel room if we're going to make it back home tomorrow."

"Is it that late already?" Mr. Kirkland glanced at his watch. "So I see. Well then, we'll be on our way."

"Of course," Mr. Jones got up and shook the man's hand. "It was nice to see you again, Winston."

"Likewise," Mr. Kirkland replied. The two sisters hugged each other and said their good-byes. Mr. and Mrs. Kirkland said their good-byes to their son and exited the home. Mrs. Jones turned to Arthur and smiled.

"I'll show you to your room, Arthur." She walked up the stairs and waited for him to follow.

"This isn't over," Alfred whispered to Arthur. Arthur stuck out his tongue and followed Mrs. Jones back up to the guest room. Alfred looked around and decided to sit on the couch and watch the soccer game on the television.

"Daddy, it's called soccer not football, right?" Alfred questioned.

His father's eyes remained glued to the screen and he grunted in agreement. Alfred smiled and puffed out his chest.

"I knew it," he whispered and continued to watch the end of the game with his father.

~USCan~

It was almost midnight when Alfred finally crawled into his bed. He yawned and crashed down on the Superman comforter below him. Cracking an eye open, he looked out his bedroom window to see stars twinkling above him. He was glad his parents moved out of the city; the sky was beautiful out in the countryside. However, Alfred couldn't help but miss all of his friends back in Philadelphia. In his small town, he lived in a development where doctors and lawyers resided, but not many kids around his age were there. They were either too old and would ignore him or too young and couldn't play the way Alfred liked to play. Alfred got up on his bed and sat on his knees. He folded his hands together and stared at the star.

"Hey, Mr. Star, I know wishing is stupid and stuff, but I was wondering if you could help me out. Arthur said he wished on stars all the time and it worked for him. I don't know what I could do for you, but I was hoping you could please, please, please, _please_ with a cherry on top even though I don't like cherries give me someone I could play with." Alfred paused and took in a deep breath. "Oh, not someone who's like ten years older than me. I want someone just like me." He looked down at the 'sold' sign in front of his neighbor's house. "Oh, and I want them to be a boy and live right next to me in Superman's house."

Alfred nodded and ran over everything he said to make sure he covered everything he wanted. He threw back the comforter, buried his way through them like a tunnel, and turned on a flashlight. He began to read the latest comic book that he had got (albeit without his parents' permission) and skimmed through the first few pages.

"Honda Kiku, you're a genius," he snickered to himself and continued to read the entire night.

~USCan~

_Beeeep… beeeep…. beeeep…. beeeep…._

Alfred's listless hand smacked around on his dresser until it finally connected with his alarm clock. He smiled in victory.

_Beeeep… beeeep…. beeeep…. beeeep…._

His eye cracked open to look at his alarm clock, which wasn't even turned on. The time read about 7:32 in the morning. Since when did he wake up this early on a Tuesday during summer vacation? He rolled over on his left and stuffed his pillow over his ears. Finally, after a few more seconds of failing to ignore the sound, he crawled out of his bed and stared out of his window.

"It's a moving van," Alfred mused. He looked around the yard and saw a man and woman eyeing over the house and talking to each other. Alfred's expression flattened. "They're not Superman or Batman _or_ Wolverine. They're just normal people. This stinks." Alfred was about to leave the window when something moved on a couch in the yard. He narrowed his eyes to make out the shape. Unable to see it through the window full of Superman and American window stickers, he ran over to his double doors that lead onto a patio for him to play on. Alfred strained his ears to try to hear what she was saying, but they were incomprehensible. The woman turned her head and called out to the person on the couch.

Alfred turned his attention back to the couch. It was a girl around his age with dark blond hair cut around her chin and wore a red shirt and tan denim pants. She looked up from her book, placed it on a couch cushion, and walked inside the door. Curious to learn her name and offer her to play later, Alfred sprung off the railing and ran off the balcony, through his room, down the hall, and tromped down the stairs, skipping the last one.

"Where do you think you're going so early?" Arthur asked and looked over his embroidery. Alfred cringed as he reached for the front door handle.

"Oh, outside," Alfred replied.

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "I can see that. What for?"

"To meet the new neighbors," Alfred replied and swung the door open. He jumped over all four steps on the porch, landed on his hands and knees, and darted over to his white fence. The fence was a good two feet taller than he was, so he jumped up and down to try to see. Since that failed, he scanned the ground for something to stand on. Spotting his mother's two-step ladder to water her flowers on the roof, he dashed over to the porch and picked it up. He still needed to stand on his tiptoes to look over, but he soon found himself spying on the woman over the fence.

Now that Alfred could hear the woman right, he knew why he couldn't understand her. She wasn't speaking English, but some kind of soft, flowing language. The man beside her nodded a few times and gave his input to her words. She paused and looked over at Alfred.

"_BonjourHi_!" she exclaimed. Alfred jumped in shock and teetered backward on the ladder. He lost his balance and crashed to the ground below, letting out a light shriek as he fell. The woman cried out in that strange language again and rushed over to the other side of the fence. "I'm sorry. I did not mean to frighten you."

Alfred looked over to meet the green eyes of the woman kneeling next to him. He replied, "Oh, uh, no biggie. I'm not hurt."

The woman held a hand over her heart. "Good. I was afraid you were injured. You must be our new next door neighbor."

'_Wow, for someone who was speaking a totally different language, she speaks English pretty good_,' Alfred thought. "Oh, yeah, I am. I'm Alfred F. Jones II, but you can call me just Alfred."

The woman giggled. "It's nice to meet you, Alfred. I'm Mrs. Williams, and this is my husband, Mr. Williams."

"'_ow do you do_?" he asked. Alfred held back a giggle. _This guy talks funny._

"Nice to meet ya," he replied and tipped his head. "So, where are you from?"

"Oh, you probably don't know where we're from," the woman chuckled and rubbed his hair.

"Don't worry. I studied all fifty states and their capitals this year," Alfred chirped. "And I got a B on the test. There's nowhere I don't know about."

The woman laughed. "_Non_, we're not from the United States."

"Really!" Alfred looked over his shoulders and motioned for her to lean down. Once she was at his level, he whispered, "Don't worry. I won't tell anyone you're aliens. I like aliens." The woman smiled and stood up straight. "So, what planet are you from?"

"Oh, a galaxy far, _far_, away on a planet called 'Canada'," she explained. "We traveled many miles to come and live among you so we can make peace with our race." She knelt down and put her hands on Alfred's shoulders. "Brave little hero, will you help us?"

"Of course!" Alfred jumped up and down. "That sounds like so much fun? I can't wait to tell…" He paused and pursed his lips. "I mean, it will be our little secret. Scout's honor!"

"Thank you. If you don't mind, I have a mission for you. My younger unit is inside our house, and he isn't happy about moving away from our planet. Would you go in and welcome him?"

"I'm on it," Alfred responded and dashed to the front door of his neighbor's house. He swung open the door and paused. '_Wow, their house is soooo big? How am I going to find their younger unit… younger unit… I wonder if that was the little girl I saw before!_' Alfred walked to the left and entered what would be their kitchen. He turned to his right and walked into a vast room with boxes littering the floor. He returned to where he started and scaled the steps to the second floor. To his right was a white wall and to his left was another shorter hallway with two rooms on each side and one at the end. The first room to his left was a master suite with white curtains lining the windows. The right room was a large bathroom with a walk-in shower and bathtub. Alfred crept to the last room at the end of the hallway and peered in the door.

The room was white with polished hardwood flooring. It had a black spiral staircase over in the corner leading up to another floor blocked off by a sliding wooden door in the ceiling. There were unopened boxes scattered around the room, and a bare bed resting in the middle of the right wall. The girl he saw earlier sat on the bed with her back to him and stared out the window. She was hugging something to her chest and her shoulders were shuddering.

Alfred stepped through the door and walked over to her. "Hey, younger unit. I'm Alfred of Earth. It's great to-"

A pillow flew through the air and hit the wall behind him. Alfred dodged to his left as the girl turned to face him. Her eyes were either a deep blue or violet (was that even possible?) with puffy, red eyes and tears staining her cheeks. She yelled in frustration and threw the stuffed animal in her arms at him. It hit him in the chest; it knocked Alfred back a step or two.

"_Sortez!"_ she shouted and knelt down to grab more stuffed animals out of the box in front of her. One by one, she fired them at Alfred, yelling repeatedly in a language Alfred couldn't understand.

"Hey, take it easy!" Alfred argued. "I just wanted to help you." However, she ignored him. Finally, the girl stopped throwing animals at him and curled up around another stuffed animal on her bed. Soft sobs escaped her lips and her blonde hair covered her eyes. Alfred paused and wondered if he should approach her or not. Tiptoeing across the room, Alfred walked over and sat down in front of her. She lifted her head to look up at him and rested her nose on top of a stuffed polar bear.

"Hello," Alfred spoke slowly. "My name is Alfred. I am a boy from Earth." The girl raised an eyebrow. "It's great to see you here. If you-"

"I speak English you know," the girl hissed and narrowed her eyes.

"That's great!" Alfred sat up straight. "That makes this so much easier. Your mom told me you came from a faraway place and you want to make peace with Earth. That's great? I want to help. If there's anything you want to know, anything at all, I can tell you."

After a long silence, the girl asked, "Are you stupid or something?"

"Huh?" Alfred blinked. '_Well… I did say _any_ question._' "No, are you?"

The girl pouted. "I am not!" There was another awkward silence between them. "What do you want?"

"Me? Oh, I want to be friends. Is that okay with you?"

"Okay… I guess it is."

"Now… I'm-"

"Alfred, I got that," she smiled. "My name's Matthew."

"Oh, well hello Mattie-wait! You're a boy?"

"Well yeah, what did you think I was?" The look on Alfred's face was all he needed. Matthew didn't know what to expect from his new friend, but somehow, he could tell he was in for one heck of a ride.

**To be continued…**

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><p>So again, tell me what you all think! I'll be awaiting your reviews. =)<p> 


	2. Swift Dares

Wow, you guys! Thanks a bunch for all the reviews, favourites, alerts, and all that jazz! I never expected so many people to like it. =)

So, I forgot yesterday was Friday... *fails hard* Sorry about that... I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as I did writing it.

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><p>Chapter 2 - Swift Dares<p>

"By the way, what were you talking about?" Matthew cocked his head and stared at Alfred. "I'm not from a different planet. I'm from another country."

Alfred blinked. "But your mom said-"

"My mom likes to make up stories. It's what she does," Matthew answered. "She writes books for people to read all over the world!"

"Really?" Alfred gasped. "That's so cool! Is she famous?"

"No, not yet, but momma always says, 'It's not about being famous. It's about bringing joy to others and inspiring them.' And momma's always right."

"Oh. So, what's this country… whatever it is, like?"

"You mean 'Canada'? Canada is the second largest country in the world! It's cold in the winter, but it gets warm in the summer too, even though lots of people here say it's a frozen wasteland. And there's a lot of outdoor stuff you can do too, like camping, hiking, rafting, and skiing. And in the winter, you get to watch lots of Hockey and winter games and stuff, like curling and ice skating. And every summer me and my dad go to the Bay of Fundy to relax and sit on the ocean floor and stuff, even though it's not really an ocean. We're trying to make the Bay of Fundy the 8th wonder of the world! And there are lots of different people living there, all shapes and sizes, and we all live in peace… most of the time."

"Wow that sounds really cool! I want to go there one day."

"Maybe you can go with me next time I go there."

"Yes!" Alfred jumped up and down and ran out of the room. Matthew sat on his bed, wondering what just happened, when Alfred ducked his head back in the doorway. "I like you. Come and play with me!"

"Um… okay," Matthew smiled and hopped off his bed. He placed his polar bear stuffed animal up by his pillow and patted it fondly on the head.

"I'd like to have fun before the sun sets," Alfred hissed from the doorway. Matthew sprung from his thoughts and stomped over to the impatient lad.

"At least I have manners," he hissed and walked past Alfred. The latter puffed out his lips and stuck out his tongue before following the blonde out of the house.

~USCan~

"I dare you to… jump off that tree branch." Alfred pointed to a tree branch dangling over their heads.

"But that's got to be at least 9 metres up!" Matthew whined.

"What the heck are meters?" Alfred wrinkled his nose.

"It's like centimetres, only bigger," Matthew explained. Alfred's dumbfounded face was all he needed to confirm his next question. "Okay, you know what centimetres are, right?"

"No, I speak American," Alfred replied.

Matthew resisted the urge to slap his forehead. "No, they're how we measure how big things are in Canada. Um… I think they're like inches in-"

"Oh, I know what those are!"

Matthew straightened his lips. "Yeah, those things. See, I guess you could say centimetres are like inches, and metres are like… yards are bigger than feet, right?"

"So, it's like 9 yards up?" Alfred ignored Matthew's question. "Okay then. I dare you to jump off that 9 yard branch right up there."

"For god sakes," Arthur, who was relaxing on a lawn chair and reading _Pride and Prejudice_, walked over to the two. "Nine metres is about 30 feet in the air. Although, I don't think it's that high."

"Alright then, I dare you to jump off that 30 feet branch!"

"Is that what this is about?" Arthur scratched his head. "Well then, if your mother asks why there's a dead boy in our backyard, I was reading in the front yard." He returned to his chair, moved it to the front of the house, and plopped it down where he could still keep an eye on the two kids.

"Alfred, if I jump from that, I'll hurt myself," Matthew pouted, sat on the ground, and folded his arms. "I double dare _you_ to do it!"

"Me? Well then, I triple _dog_ dare _you _to do it! Ha! I win! There's nothing bigger than a triple dog dare."

"What? No fair!"

"You have to do it. There's no way you can get out of a triple dog dare."

Matthew eyed the branch warily. "If I do this… you have to kiss me."

"What the heck! Why would I do that?"

"Because you could kill me! Besides, if I live you need to do something really extreme too. And besides, it's not illegal."

"But it's gross. Kissing makes koodies."

Matthew smirked. "Chicken."

"I am not!"

"Are too."

"Am NOT!" Alfred yelped. He leaned forward and pecked Matthew on the lips. Arthur's books fell out of his hands and collapsed in a broken position on the front lawn. A thick fog of silence set over the two kids, and they stared at each other; both couldn't believe what happened. Alfred wiped his mouth off with his arm. "See, I told you I'm not a chicken."

"You're so gross!" Matthew sputtered and rubbed his arm across his lips. "I can't believe you just kissed me!"

"You told me to!"

"I didn't think you'd do it!"

"Well you called me a chicken! That's hurting my dignitary."

"Your… what?"

"Dignitary… you know, it's like your pride or something."

"Well, you and your dignitary can stop flirting and come inside for supper." Mrs. Jones towered over the two kids and tapped her foot in the grass. Alfred read her expression and cringed.

"You must be Alfred's mommy. It's nice to meet you," Matthew greeted.

"Well, you must be our new next-door neighbour," Mrs. Jones replied in an exaggerated perky voice. "Aren't you a cute little… _boy_."

Matthew missed the malice in her word. "Thank you very much, _mademoiselle_."

"_Matthew, come in and wash up for supper,"_ Mrs. Williams spoke in French. She looked at Mrs. Jones and waved. "Oh, hello! We're your new neighbours, The Williams. You must be Mrs. Jones."

"Indeed I am," Mrs. Jones replied.

"Oh, British, eh? What made you come to this side of the pond?"

"Honestly, I have no idea," she muttered under her breath and grabbed Alfred's hand. "Come on, Alfred. We need to go inside and have a little talk before supper."

"Okay," Alfred bit his lip. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow, Matthew."

"Yeah, I guess so," Matthew replied and ran over to the white wooden gate that led to the front yard. "_A bientôt_."

Part of Alfred wished Matthew wouldn't walk through the gate and leave him alone, and part of him wanted to follow Matthew back to her house.

~USCan~

"You _kissed_ a boy! You bloody _kissed_ a _**French**_ _boy_! Oh, what did I do to raise you wrong?" Mrs. Jones scolded.

Alfred sat in the kitchen chair and stared up at his mother from the top of his eyelids. He swung his feet idly to try to take his mind away from how loud his mother actually was. He knew she didn't have a good temper, but he never saw her so mad before.

She continued, "I never thought I had such a child. Christ, what will our neighbours think when they hear this? They hate us already, but now, oho, now we've got on the top of their 'Top Knocks' list. This is just great. You better have an explanation for this." Alfred lowered his eyes and sat still. He didn't know whether to answer his mother or if it was a rhetorical question.

"Well?" His mother spat.

Alfred took in a broken breath. "Well, we were playing a game in the backyard, and I dared him to jump off the tree branch in the backyard, and he said if he did it, I'd have to kiss him."

"Good lord, he jumped that high and survived! Thank god he didn't hurt himself, or we'd be sued for sure!"

"Well… he didn't _actually_ do it."

"What do you mean he didn't do it?"

"Well, he kind of called me a chicken, and I don't like being called a chicken, so I showed him that I could do it."

"And so you kissed him."

"Yes…"

Mrs. Jones sighed and shook her head. "Alfred, you know I love you very much, right?"

"Yes."

"And you know I only do this because I care about you, right?"

"I know."

"Then stay away from the French. They're devious, lying little frogs who will do anything to get into your pants. Take it from experience."

Alfred watched a new expression wash over her face. "Mommy, what's wrong?"

Mrs. Jones was shook from her thoughts. She wiped a tear from her eyes and spoke in a softer voice, "Oh, never mind. You're too young to understand anyway. But don't think you've gotten off the hook this easily. I didn't raise you to be a wild lunatic. Don't you ever kiss that boy or any other boy again, do you hear?"

"I won't! Scout's honour!" he jumped off his chair, put his hand over his heart and half raised his left one.

"Alright, I'll let it slide for now. But you better expect to do the dishes for the next two weeks."

Alfred groaned in reply. "But…" Her gaze cut him off. "Oh, okay. Dishes for a week it is. Thanks mom!" He hugged her legs and stampeded to his room before his father could get home from work.

~USCan~

Matthew finished his supper without saying a word to his mother about the 'accident' Alfred and he had in his backyard. The last thing he needed was his mom talking to Mrs. Jones and bringing up the kiss.

"_You're awfully quiet, Matthew_," Mrs. Williams spoke in French. "_Is something wrong?"_

"_Oh_," Matthew broke his gaze from his plate. "_Um, nothing. I was just thinking about Alfred_."

"_He seems like a nice boy_," she pondered. "_A bit slow, but a nice boy. Did you have fun playing with him?_"

Matthew wracked his mind for a topic. "_Um, well we talked about Canada_."

"_That's nice_," she smiled. "_I think that wraps our meal up_." She picked up her plate and Matthew's plate.

"_When should daddy be home from work_?" Matthew asked.

"_Matthew, he just left this morning_," Mrs. Williams replied. "_You really didn't think he'd be home tonight, did you?_"

"_Well, I guess not_," Matthew responded and played with his fingers.

"_Honey, he's a really important editor for our company."_

"_Then why did he move us to America? Why didn't we just stay in Canada?"_

"_Because the new company needs someone here who is more experienced. He's just wrapping things up back home." _Mrs. Williams stroked Matthew's hair. "_Don't worry my little one. He'll be back before you know it._"

Matthew smiled and leaned into his mother's touch. "_Two weeks is going to feel like forever though._"

"_If you wish, we could call him up right now_."

"_Really_?"

Mrs. Williams nodded. She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and hit the 1st speed dial on the panel.

"Hello, you've reached ze Williams'' Residence," Mr. Williams spoke. "'ow may I help you?"

Mrs. Williams handed the phone to Matthew. "_Daddy!_"

"_Mathieu, how are you_?"

"_Well, papa, and you_?"

The two talked for two and a half hours, even if there was no subject to talk about. He hated to stop talking to his father, but it was getting late, and his father still needed to get up for work. The two said their goodbyes and Matthew handed his mother the phone.

"_Are you satisfied_?" his mother asked.

"_Yes_," Matthew replied and hugged his mother. "_I'm_ _tired, so I'll see you in the morning_."

"_Of course_," his mother laughed. "_Good night my dear_."

"_Good night_." Matthew walked past his mother and up the stairs to his room. He looked out his window and stared into Alfred's backyard. Visions of the two neighbours standing under the tree as Alfred kissed him danced in his head. He sighed, leaned onto his windowsill, and wiped his lips gently. He looked across the yard and over towards Alfred's house. Through the window full of stickers he could see Alfred sitting on his bed with the light on. Matthew pushed his window open and felt the warm summer night air hit him in the face.

"Alfred!" he called over, hoping the boy could hear him. After a few seconds of no response, he tried calling out to him again. "ALFRED! Can you hear me?"

There was a slight pause before Alfred finally turned around to see Matthew. His eyes lit up and he pushed the windowed doors open to stand on his balcony. The two were practically a few feet away from each other. "Mattie!"

"Hey, are you okay?" he asked. "You looked kind of sad on your bed."

Alfred's face faltered for a moment. "That's silly. A hero is never sad!"

Matthew opinion wasn't swayed. "I'm sorry I got you in trouble. It was my idea for you to kiss me."

"Hey, it's no big deal," Alfred replied. "Mom's always been like that. She's just a bit protective, that's all."

He straightened his lips. "Are you sure."

"Positive. A hero doesn't lie." He pointed to his chest.

Matthew felt the smile return to his lips. "Okay, if you're sure."

"So… we're cool?" Alfred asked.

"Yeah, we're cool," he replied.

"Well, in that case, I'm going to bed," Alfred replied. "I'm a bit tired. Good night."

"_Salut_," Matthew replied and shut his window. A smile still tugged at his lips. Maybe this Alfred kid wasn't so bad after all. He curled up in his blankets and closed his eyes. Somehow, he knew he was going to have nightmares about that kiss.

**To be continued…**

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><p>If you want to review to tell me anything I messed up or could improve on, by all means go ahead. I love reading any feedback. =)<p> 


	3. Swift Chaos

Yay, it's Friday again… at least where I live. I'm in the Eastern Time zone, if that helps you any. So I'm sorry for everyone in Europe who get my posts on Saturdays... that's probably when I'll be updating for you. And everyone who is behind me... like Central or Pacific time, you should get yours on Fridays like I promised.

And for those I can't reply to, because you either never logged in or don't have an account:

***hime:** Sorry this is out so late! As I said, my time is waaay behind yours. D: But I know exactly what you mean! To me, love at first sight doesn't really work, and I don't believe Canada's a sex hound (lol maybe Alfred... maybe) but I don't think he'd pressure Canada. I hope this story is as fresh as you're making it out to be, and it doesn't disappoint you! And don't worry, France and Poland will be making the story (and a huge contribution to the plot). About Alfred's mother... I can't say if she's homophobic or not. You'll just have to wait and find out. ;)

***Panda3035:** No, it wasn't Francis... he's not quite that old in my story. XD But good guess. =)

***mako:** As I said, I might not be in your timezone. D: I'm sorry, but I can't update my stories until late on my Friday nights. In your case, I might be updating every Saturday.

Also, I'm still not entirely happy with this chapter, but it'll have to do for now. Hope you enjoy this next chapter! *crosses her fingers*

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><p>Chapter 3 - Swift Chaos<p>

Matthew cracked an eye open, listening to the birds chirping outside his window. He pushed himself into a sitting position and rubbed his right eye. His eyes wandered down to his nightstand and gazed at the time: 7:25 in the morning. Cursing under his lips, the now teenage Matthew jumped out of bed and slid down the stairs. His mother idly sipped coffee as she sat on her favourite chair in the living room and watched her son fly out of bed.

"Morning, Matthew," she followed him into the kitchen. "Did you sleep well?"

"Mom, why didn't you wake me up?" Matthew finished buckling his belt and stuck a piece of bread in the toaster.

"I did wake you up at 5 this morning, but I guess you went back to sleep. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, it's okay mom," Matthew ran upstairs to the bathroom and slammed the door shut. He brushed his teeth and hair at the same time, nearly missing the sink when he spit into it, and ran down the stairs a second time. He entered the kitchen just as his toast sprung up from the toaster.

His mom watched him run and offered, "Do you want a ride to school?"

"No, I'll take my bike," Matthew replied. "You don't need to waste your gas for my mistake." He stuck the toast in his mouth and lifted his brown satchel over his head.

"Are you sure? I wouldn't be going out of my way."

"Yeah mom; see you later." He walked forward, stopped, took the toast out of his mouth, and pecked his mother on the cheek. "Love you."

His mother giggled and wiped the crumbs from her cheek. "And I you." He smiled, darted out the kitchen door, and into the garage. He pulled his bike from the wall and placed it down on the ground, opening the garage door to his right. Matthew mounted the bike and peddled out the garage door. As he passed Alfred's house, he slammed on his breaks and skid on the sidewalk. Panting, he glared at the red convertible that nearly ran him over.

Alfred turned around in the passenger's seat and yelled out, "Yo, Mattie, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine Al," he replied and spoke under his breath, "for someone who nearly got hit."

"That's good," Alfred sighed in relief. The girl beside him turned around and looked over the brim of her sunglasses. Her coffee coloured eyes examined Matthew head to toe and her lips curled up in disgust.

"Alfred, your neighbours really need to watch where they're going. He could've dented my car."

Matthew's hair bristled. "Well excuse me."

Alfred laughed. "Now, Latoya, be nice. I'm sure Mattie was just in a hurry."

"Well, I feel bad for him having to ride a bike to school." Latoya put the sunglasses back on her face and turned to Alfred, flipping her ebony hair over her shoulders. "Sucks to be him." She backed out into the street, and stopped parallel to Matthew. The Canadian met Alfred's eyes for a brief moment, and Alfred flashed a smile and shrugged his shoulders as Latoya sped down the street, blowing right through a stop sign.

Matthew choked on the fumes and mumbled under his breath. He peddled down the street, making sure he stopped at the stop sign, and continued on his path to school. The green leaves, fresh out of their buds, tickled his hair as he peddled down the street. A nippy breeze refreshed his calm nature, and he breathed in the sweet smell of flowers opening up for the first time. Matthew watched a pair of bunnies leap through someone's yard with a few younger ones right on their tail. The sun peeked over the mountains, beginning to warm the air around him. As Matthew turned the corner, his school became visible behind the trees. He parked his bike at a post, locked the tires in place with a chain, and eyed Latoya's car in the parking lot. The idea of slashing her tires crossed his mind, but he shook it off with the excuse that he was late for school. Matthew opened the front doors to the lobby just as the bell rang.

~USCan~

"Wednesday, why can't you be Friday?" Matthew grumbled and walked over to where he parked his bike. He unlocked the wheels and mounted the bike. Alfred was picking up a few books that had fallen to the ground, and he handed them to Latoya. She laughed and kissed him on the lips, her arms sliding around his shoulders. Matthew rolled his eyes and peddled home, watching out for any red convertibles with his Neanderthal neighbour and a crazy Latina driver.

Matthew opened the garage door with a button from his bag and peddled inside his garage. He closed the door behind him and put the bike back up on its resting point. Nearly forgetting to close the garage door on his way in, Matthew slipped off his shoes and locked the garage door behind him.

"_Mom, dad, I'm home_," he called out in French. He waited for any kind of reply and shrugged his shoulders. "Alone again… why doesn't that surprise me." He sat down at the kitchen table and worked on his homework.

Matthew glanced up at the clock every once and a while, watching the hour swiftly ticking away. He was just about to move on to his next subject when a sharp laugh interrupted his thoughts. He nearly jumped out of his skin and groaned, picking his pencil back up and solving the algebra problems in front of him. After several minutes of failing to concentrate on his work, he slammed the pencil down on the table and walked outside.

Matthew stopped on his patio, listening for the noise interrupting his thoughts. His head snapped up toward Alfred's balcony, where Alfred and Latoya laughed on two chairs. Matthew growled and balled up his fists, marching over to the fence.

"Yo, Juliet, keep it down over there," he yelled up. After a few seconds, Alfred's head poked over the railing.

"Oh, hey Mattie! Enjoying your evening?"

"I'm surprised you answered to that," he chuckled under his breath, and then yelled back, "I'd be enjoying it more if you and your friend would lower your voices."

"Oh, I'm sorry, are we interrupting you?" Latoya leaned over the railing with her sunglasses over her eyes again. "Poor baby. Excuse us for enjoying our lives."

Matthew opened his mouth to speak, closed it, and smiled. "Yeah, you're excused. And excuse me for interrupting _your_ quiet afternoon."

"Oh, you're excused," she smiled. She looked over at Alfred and whispered something; he laughed nervously and cleared his throat.

"Hey, Mattie, could you leave us alone now? My girl and I are kind of in the middle of something."

"Oh, sure, go right ahead your majesty," Matthew muttered and mocked a bow. "Throw a big party while you're at it."

~USCan~

Matthew wrenched the pillow over his ears and growled into his sheets. That constant bass blaring from the speakers outside Alfred's house was starting to give him a headache. Why did he have to suggest _that_, of all things? He glared out his window, his eyes bloodshot, and stared down at the wild party in Alfred's backyard. Matthew could've sworn he saw a beer bottle fly over the fence and smash on his concrete sidewalk. He picked up his cell phone from his nightstand and his finger hovered over the nine for a few seconds.

"Calm down, Matthew. This will all pass over soon," he told himself, and put the phone back in its place. Placing a pair of white, fluffy slippers on his feet, he walked over to his closet and wrapped his maroon housecoat around him. Matthew crept down the stairs, careful not to wake his parents, and toward the back door to his patio.

The music flooded into his whole kitchen as he opened the sliding glass door. He wrenched it shut behind him and blinked as disco lights flashed in his direction. Opening the back gate and dodging a beach ball that was flung in his direction, he searched through the crowd like a leopard through tall grass. No one seemed to notice a new comer to the party, and he was bumped into several times, apologizing to every single person for a reason unknown to him. Matthew looked over the in ground pool and spotted his pray.

"Alfred!" He called out as loudly as he could. His neighbour either ignored his presence or didn't hear his whisper of a yell. Matthew charged his lungs with air and was about to yell Alfred's name when someone pushed him from behind. He lost his balance and stumbled forward, slipping off the edge of the pool and falling in. The crowd hushed for a while and craned their necks to see who was drunk enough to fall in. Matthew sprung up, spitting water out of his mouth and made his way over to the stairs. He was about to reach for the railing when he caught a hand instead. The Canadian's eyes lifted up to meet familiar baby blue ones.

"Hey, Mattie, glad you decided to join the party," Alfred said and smiled.

"No, Alfred, why don't you join mine," Matthew hissed and pulled Alfred forward. Alfred toppled over Matthew's head; his foot kicked the younger's forehead and pulled Matthew under as well. Matthew sprung up first, climbing up the stairs and dripping wet on the pavement. He watched as Alfred's head surfaced from the water; the American coughed and spit out fluid from his lungs. People around the pool shared thoughts and laughed at the duo in the pool.

"What was that for?" Alfred barked as he swam over to the stairs.

"For waking me up at 3 in the morning," Matthew spat back and sloshed over to the gate.

"Wait, Mattie!"

Matthew froze in his tracks and put on a sarcastic smile. "Oh, whatever could you want now, Alfred?"

The American teen slicked his hair back, his gravity defying hair springing back into place, and trudged over to Matthew. "It was your idea we had the party in the first place, remember?"

"Oh, yes, how stupid of me." Matthew rolled his eyes. "Obviously you don't know what sarcasm is."

"Isn't that something that happens during sex?"

"No, Alfred, that's an orgasm."

"Oh yeah, that's right! I'm always confusing those two."

"Way to go Einstein." Matthew turned around and opened the gate as Alfred's hand landed on the Canadian's shoulder.

"Come on, Mattie. The party's not that bad."

"Not that bad? Oh, yes, it's definitely not that bad! The whole town has to be in an uproar right about now. You're disturbing everyone but yourself."

"Hey, everyone else is having fun! Why should it matter?"

"It matters, because you're not the only person here, Alfred. Did you every stop to think of anyone other than yourself for once?

"Of course! A hero doesn't-"

"A hero doesn't do this. A hero doesn't do that. Tell me, what hero throws a party in his backyard at three in the frikin morning?"

"Well…"

"Exactly! So why don't you get all these people to go home and go to bed."

"I can't do that, Mattie. They're my friends. What would they think?"

"Your friends? Oh, don't get me started on this one. How many of them actually pay attention to you? How many of them hang around you when you're not having a good day? How many of them stick up for you?"

"You're just jealous because you don't have any." The words came out quicker than he could stop them. Matthew scrunched up his nose and shrugged Alfred's hand off his shoulder. He slammed the gate behind him, leaving Alfred calling his name from the other side.

Sirens echoed in the distance. Partygoers scrambled over the fence, shouting and fighting to get out of sight. Matthew pulled open his glass door and ran into his house. He let out a sigh of relief and returned to his room for some well deserved rest.

No sooner did he seem to close his eyes when his alarm clock rang for him to wake up. Matthew's eyes creaked open as he hit the snooze button on his alarm clock several times. Suddenly, his mother leapt onto his bed and called out, "_Wake up, my little Matthew!"_

"_Mom!" _Matthew groaned and flipped over. "_Can't you let me sleep for a little longer?"_

"_Of course not! You have that big test today and-"_

"_My test!"_ Matthew bounced out of his bed and ran down the stairs to review his notes. His mother shook her head and smiled, watching her son in action.

"_Don't give yourself a heart attack. You know everything you need to know."_

"_But what if I forget? What if-"_

"_Mathieu, have a little faith in yourself. I know I believe in you."_

"_You're my mom; of course you believe in me."_

"_Oh, if only you'd see what I see," _She walked over and kissed her son on the forehead. "_Now, head off to school before you're late. I know you don't want to repeat yesterday."_

"_Thanks mom."_ Matthew smiled and walked toward the front door. He took in a deep breath of the fresh morning air and grabbed his bike, hoping today would bring a better day than yesterday.

~USCan~

Alfred sat up and cracked his back, looking over at his clock to see he had slept in way too late. He decided to call himself in sick this morning and walked down to the television set in his living room to watch "The Price is Right." Taking a sip of his coffee and curling up on the couch with his cat, Oreo, he wrapped himself up in a blanket and tuned into the age old show. Right as he got comfortable, the phone rang next to him. He ignored it the best he could, since he was supposed to be in school right now, and listened to the message on the answering machine.

"_Al, it's your mother. I should be home tonight from my meeting. You better not have destroyed our house since I left. Oh, and in case you get hungry tonight, there should be some left over pizza in the fridge. Help yourself._"

Alfred chuckled to himself and shook his head. He knew his mother meant well, but that pizza had been sitting in the fridge for a good two weeks. Almost everything she tried to cook ended up burnt or malformed. Overall, he just pretended to eat it to make her happy and then slipped out for fast food. How he wished his father still cooked all their meals.

Oreo meowed and hopped off his lap, pawing at his empty food bowl. Alfred smiled and dished out a can of wet cat food from the cabinet. He returned to the couch to discover a new show on the television. Curious to see what it was about, he sat down and watched the soap opera in front of him.

After a minute of watching the show, his head began to spin and he turned the television off. He wondered why Football couldn't be a year round sport and relaxed on the couch. His conversation with Matthew echoed in his head from last night, and he tried to shake the image of him away. No matter what, he was going to apologize to Matthew, even if the Canadian didn't accept it at first, or his name wasn't Alfred F. Jones.

**To be continued…**

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><p>Remember, reviews are love. =D<p> 


	4. Swift Visions

So… another week down! I had a bit of time before I went to work this morning, and I love you all so much, so... it's extra early today! =D

Ah, this chapter… makes me wonder if Matthew is bipolar toward Alfred. Of course, I believe most Canadian's attitude toward Americans is bipolar, depending on what we've gone and done. xD Again, to the reviewers I couldn't reply to:

**()**: Glad to see everything is running smoothly so far! I didn't realize I'd have people reading my story from time zones ahead of mine (lol, stupid me), so I hope that helped a bit. No need to count anymore; the next chapter's here!

**hime ():** Good guess! Actually, they're both 16 years old. (Sorry for not clearing that up sooner!) I never really thought about what Arthur was doing all this time. In Alfred's words: "It's probably too boring to even mention." Matthew isn't totally friendless (which you will discover further in this chapter), but he doesn't have many. More like awesome bff's that will stick by him most of the time. It really makes me smile that you think so highly of my story. Thanks for everything! X3

So, without further ado, here's to everyone who waited patiently for the next chapter! :D

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><p>Chapter 4 – Swift Visions<p>

"_Papa!" Matthew called out as he fought his way through the house. Flames lashed out and bit his pale skin and gnawed at the clothing clinging to his moist torso. Sweat leapt from his saturated bangs and stung his already tearing orbs. He coughed out the smoke choking his lungs. The smell of burning hickory wood stained his nostrils and was so thick in the air he could taste it. Matthew was currently on the second floor hallway of his burning house._

"_Papa!" he cried out again, covering his nose with his shirt sleeve. Matthew didn't know why or how his house caught on fire, but he knew his father was in danger on the floor above him; there was no mistaking his rapid French from his home office._

"_Matthew, get out of here! You'll kill yourself!" his muffled voice croaked._

"_Not without you," he hollered over the roaring flames. The floor creaked under his feet and wood popped loudly beside him. He dragged himself forward toward the attic stairs where his father remained trapped behind a door locked by collapsed, burning wood._

_There was a loud crack and Matthew's right foot sunk through the floor below him. He let out a squeak of surprise and collapsed down to the floor. His left ankle twisted and snapped as his body plunged to the ground. Pain ripped through his leg and up through his entire body. He could feel blood dripping down his torn leg wedged in the floor. Matthew tried to stand on his left knee to pull his foot out of the floorboards, but the plaster on the first floor ceiling held his foot in place._

"_Matthew, are you outside yet?" yelled his father's desperate voice._

"_No, I told you," Matthew tried once more to pull his foot loose, "I'm not leaving without you!"_

"_It's too dangerous! I'll make it out on my own! There's a busted window I can escape from. Please, go now!"_

_Matthew felt his heart pound in his ears. His father was going to make it out okay after all! Matthew's joy died when he started to cough uncontrollably. He could hear a voice calling out his name but couldn't connect it to its owner. His sight was blurring in and out from lack of oxygen and black circles danced around his vision. Matthew tried one last time to try and pull his foot out before he gave up and collapsed onto his hands._

"_I just wish I could tell him "I love you" one more time," he muttered to himself, unable to bring his voice above a whisper. Matthew felt the floor near his hands vibrate as a shadow ran down the hallway toward him. His wary eyes looked up at the face, but he couldn't make anything out but a shadow._

"_Matthew!"_

Matthew's head flung forward and collided with another forehead. The teen cried out in pain and clutched his forehead with his hands. He heard someone cry out as something fell off his nightstand and smashed to the floor. There was a moment of silence before Matthew flailed around his nightstand for his glasses and placed them on his face.

"Morning," Alfred greeted him. He giggled nervously and continued, "Sorry about your lamp." Matthew looked on the floor to see his lamp's light bulb smashed on the floor.

He sighed, closed his eyes, and flopped back onto his pillow. It was _way_ too early to deal with Alfred. On top of that, he now had a headache and his body hurt all over. He thought he'd be used to sudden headaches since Alfred has been his neighbour for the past eight years.

"Hey, are you okay? You're kind of all wet." Matthew opened his eyes to meet with Alfred's sky blue orbs. He inhaled in surprise and opened his dry throat to speak, but nothing popped out. Alfred continued, "Did you have a nightmare or something? You were moving around in your sleep and moaning something under your breath. Was the boogie man after you?" Alfred's eyes lit up with terror. "Don't worry; I won't let him get you, because I'm a hero, and heroes help damsels in distress."

Matthew finally found his voice. "Well, Mr. Hero, didn't your mom ever tell you it's not polite to sneak into someone's room uninvited."

"But I didn't. I asked your mom if I could come in, and she said yes, so I came up to see you, and you were still asleep."

"How long were you waiting for me to wake up?"

"Oh, I don't know? How long does it take to say your name three times?"

Matthew sighed. "Well, I'm up. What do you want?"

"Well, I wanted to see if you wanted to walk to school with me." Matthew looked over at his alarm clock, which read a brisk 5:30 in the morning, and looked back over at Alfred.

"Why so early? Normally I'm the one who has to drag you out of bed."

"Well, today's the last Friday before summer vacation, and I thought we could start hanging out in the morning and stuff now." Alfred flashed a grin. "Unless you don't want to walk to school and harm the environment by riding a diesel bus."

Matthew cocked an eyebrow and sighed. "Give me a minute to get dressed for school, and I'll meet you downstairs."

"Great!" Alfred jumped off Matthew's bed and slid on the hardwood floor. He caught his balance again and questioned, "Why do you guys run around in your house without shoes on anyway?"

"No, the question is, why don't you," Matthew smirked. Alfred made a face before scaling down the stairs. A yelp cried out from downstairs, and Matthew's mother laughed.

"Are you okay, Alfred?" his mother's muffled voice called out.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Stupid rug," was Alfred's reply. Matthew laughed as he picked out his clothes for the day and walked down the stairs to see his mother and Alfred sitting at the kitchen table.

His mother took a sip of her coffee and smiled. "So, Alfred, excited for summer vacation?"

"You bet," he replied and crossed his arms over his chest. "I just hope I pass."

"You hope," she raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

Alfred slid down in his seat. "Well… if I don't pass my geography final, I'll have to repeat it next year. God, I hate geography."

"Alfred, I thought _Mathieu_ was tutoring you in geography." Her eyes widened.

"_I was_," Matthew's replied in French.

"_Mathieu, good morning_," she said and walked over to her son, kissing him twice on both cheeks. He smiled and returned her gesture, watching Alfred twist his nose.

"Well, I'm ready," Matthew remarked putting his shoes on at the door.

"Don't you want breakfast?" His mother questioned.

"Ah, maybe a piece of sausage or two for the way," Matthew replied, grabbing two sausage links out of the pan and hissing a bit when the scalding meat touched his fingers. His mother sighed and shook her head.

"Alright, well if you're sure. Have a good day sweetie." She blew a kiss and Matthew pretended to catch it. Alfred rolled his eyes and followed his friend outside.

"You know, if my mom did that to me every day, I think I'd lose whatever I ate for supper last night," Alfred muttered.

"Well, maybe if she did that to your dad every day, he wouldn't have left," Matthew grumbled.

"What?" Alfred snapped, which Matthew replied with a short "nothing."

"So, why did you really want to walk to school with me?" Matthew turned his head to face his neighbour.

Alfred adjusted the straps of his backpack on his shoulders and continued, "Mattie, I don't know what I'm going to do! If I don't pass this geography final on Monday, they're going to kick me off the football team for next year! I can't afford to let that happen. They already benched me for baseball, and if I'm kicked off the football team, Godzilla or Superman can come in and take my spot, and the whole world will pay attention to our team, and everyone will tell me about how amazing they are compared to me, and I'll never get that scholarship for school and-"

"Alfred, for one, I can't imagine Godzilla playing football." Matthew laughed. "And for two, you're being way too dramatic. I'm sure it's not all that bad."

"Did you see my last report card?" Alfred shot back.

"No, but I did hear your mother screaming." Matthew smirked. "Seriously, I'm surprised you can still hear."

"Well I might be able to, but I think Oreo is going deaf. Poor thing dove under the couch when she started blowing up at me."

"I don't blame him. Your mom is bat shit crazy when she's pissed. Poor little kitten."

Alfred chuckled and stretched his hands behind his head. "Well, at least one thing's for sure, if she doesn't hate me, my geography teacher does."

Matthew looked over at the American teen and raised an eyebrow. "Maybe she wouldn't if you didn't stare at her tits for an hour. She is married you know. And she's old enough to be your mother."

"Hey, I do not stare at her tits all day," Alfred argued. "And I can't help it if she wears those low cut shirts to school. Something like that should be in the dress code. But at least she gets the class to pay attention when she drops a pencil."

Matthew laughed and looked up at their school. "Well, this is where we part ways. Have fun, Al." Alfred waved good-bye to his neighbour and joined a group of his friends by the fountain. The Canadian waved halfheartedly and walked over to the third oak tree in front of the school.

"Well you're here early," a boy with spiked, dirty blond hair addressed Matthew.

"You know," Matthew grumbled, snatching the pipe from his friend's mouth, "if you keep smoking this shit, Willem, I'm going to have to put a sign around your neck warning people about your breath."

Willem shrugged. "Now, now, don't deny a man of his pleasures."

Matthew snorted. "Just because you're eighteen doesn't make you a man." The Dutch boy folded his arms and fumed silently by the tree, while Matthew watched Alfred laughing with his friends. An unreadable expression crossed his face as Alfred walked toward the school grounds with his friends.

"What are you looking at, Matt?" Willem looked over his friend's shoulder. Matthew whipped his head around, and his head collided into his friend's nose. Willem howled out in pain and clutched his freshly bleeding nose.

"Oh my god, I'm sorry! Here, let me-"

"No, it's okay. I deserved it," Willem grumbled through his hands. He let his hands slide off his nose and caught the blood spurting out of it. "Shit, Matt, did you have to hit me that hard?" He continued to mutter in Dutch while Matthew pulled a few tissues from his backpack.

"Here, hold this to your nose while we go to the nurse." Matthew held the tissues up to his friend's face and the two walked inside the front doors to the nurse's office.

~USCan~

"It's not that funny, Ivan," Willem grumbled as he pushed food around on his plate with a fork.

Ivan shook his head. "I strongly disagree, _Sasha_. The thought of little Matvey breaking _your_ nose is hilarious!"

Matthew puffed out his cheeks. "I'm not a weakling, Ivan." His voice was drowned out by Willem yelling at Ivan for calling him "Sasha." The Canadian boy scowled and waited until he had Ivan's attention again, which took a few minutes. "You of all people should know. Remember our game two weeks ago?"

Ivan winced a bit and rubbed his arm. "You hit well, Matvey. Just know you won't catch me off guard next time."

Willem raised an eyebrow. "Okay, what did he do?"

"Oh, nothing really," Matthew smirked and leaned back in his seat. He watched Willem look at Ivan for answers and back down once Ivan gave him the "ask and die" look. Matthew laughed as the neurotic Dutchman nearly dove under the table to get away from Ivan.

"So, Matvey, got any plans tonight?" The Russian smiled.

"Eh?" Matthew shook himself away from his thoughts. "Oh, no, not really. Why?"

Willem's head popped out from under the table, and he eyed Ivan before answering. "We're going to see a movie tonight and go ice skating. Want to come?"

"Sure," Matthew's heart nearly jumped out of his throat. "I haven't been ice skating in forever."

"By forever, you mean two weeks, right?" Ivan smiled.

Matthew's scowl was enough to answer the Russian, who laughed in reply. Willem finished counting out the cherries on his plate, curled his nose up in disgust, and pushed the plate away.

"What's wrong, Will? I thought you liked cherries," Matthew questioned.

"There's an odd number. No way am I eating them now," he grumbled.

Ivan took a cherry from the Dutchman's plate and smirked. "There, problem solved."

"Really, Willem, they're not going to kill you," Matthew muttered.

"I just… can't. Here, you eat them." He pushed the plate to Matthew, who didn't really have any more room to finish Willem's abandoned food. His gaze landed on Alfred, who had stormed away from his table while his friends laughed. His two friends didn't seem to notice the Canadian's lack of attention and continued talking about what they were going to do that night. Matthew sighed and looked down at the cherries, muttering about how he didn't like when food went to waste.

**To be continued…**

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><p>Kudos to anyone who can figure out why Ivan called Willem "Sasha." Oh, and in case you didn't know, Willem is supposed to be "Netherlands." Please no complaining… I like the name, and it's pretty popular in the Netherlands (better than Lars in my opinion, but that's an egg to crack later).<p>

Remember, reviews are love! :D


	5. Swift Catastrophe

Another early post for the readers I love so much! And again, to the reviews I can't reply to:

**hime ()**: Sorry about scaring you with the dream, but I had to put it in there. But wow, I never expected such a reaction! (I don't mind about your life story by the way; it made me smile. =)) Haha, yes, Oreos are a type of biscuit over here. It's actually a pretty popular cat name.

**Fraya ()**: Glad you approve of my choice for the Netherlands. He doesn't get enough love, especially with Canada. And with their recent history with each other… I just couldn't resist!

**Nivell ()**: Alfred's cat is a tuxedo cat, if that helps with gender or anything. I love tortoiseshell cats; their coats are so pretty! *derp off topic*

Also, I'm not really complaining or anything, but I'm just curious: is there anything I need to improve on in the story? I'm guessing lack of reviews is the cause, but I can't help but feel like I'm not doing enough for you all. Any criticism or possible ideas for me? Thanks! =)

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><p>Chapter 5 – Swift Catastrophe<p>

"_Matthew, I finally found you!" the man dressed in the fireman's uniform gasped. He leaned down, pulling several times to free Matthew's foot from the floor. After several failed attempts, Matthew's foot broke away from the splinters. _

"_Come on, stay with me." The man picked Matthew up bridal style and jumped forward, nearly missing a wooden beam that crashed toward his head. He looked down at the stairwell to the first floor and realized he wasn't getting back down the way he came in. The fireman ran back toward Matthew's bedroom window and threw the window open. "Matthew, can you hear me?"_

_Matthew's eyes cracked open as he looked at the Fireman's mask, dark eyes silhouetted through the visor. Beads of sweat rolled down the man's cheeks and clung onto the side of his face. Matthew gave a weak nod before dispelling more smoke from his lungs._

"_Hold on," he yelled as the floor underneath him groaned under his weight. The fireman threw Matthew over his shoulder just in time to catch the window sill as the floor gave out from underneath their weight. He struggled to pull both of them to the window sill, his feet skidding on the sides of the wall. Matthew could hear his mother calling his name from outside the building._

He sprung up in his bed, cold sweat running down his face. '_That dream again! Who _was_ that man, and how did he know my name?_' He looked over at his alarm clock, disbelief filling his eyes. He cursed under his breath and sprung out of bed, struggling to get a new shirt on. While Matthew pulled on a pair of jeans, he lost his balance and fell into his dresser. As different trinkets fell to the floor, he twisted his body around to catch every single one, except for the tulip vase, which spilled over the side of the dresser and onto his head.

"_Mathieu, are you okay_?" his mother called up.

"_Yes, mom_," he replied, peeling his saturated shirt off his body and struggling to pull a fresh shirt over his soaked torso. He shook the access water out of his hair and placed the vase in an upright position, placing the tulips back in their resting state. '_God, Willem would _kill_ me if he saw his tulips like this!_'

"_Mathieu, Alfred's here,_" she called out.

"_Okay, I'll be right down._"

"_Are you sure everything is okay?"_

"_Just fine mom."_

"_Well hurry up! Your toast is going to pop up any minute."_

Matthew smiled and slid his socks on his feet. He raced out of his room and into the kitchen, catching his toast as it popped out of the toaster.

"_Um, Mathieu-"_

"_Yeah mom?"_

"_Honey, do you know-"_

"_That Alfred's here? Yeah, you told me. He can wait."_

"_But Mathieu-"_

"_I'm going," _He leaned over and kissed his mom on the cheek twice. She put up her hand to call after him but smiled and continued on with what she was doing. Matthew slipped his shoes on and opened the front door to leave.

Alfred, who was sitting on the porch step in a black shirt with the batman symbol on it and khaki shorts, looked up at Matthew.

"Wow, Matt, normally you're the one who has to pry my ass out of bed. What happened?"

"My alarm clock never went off," Matthew replied and walked over to the garage. He returned with his red bike and saw Alfred's head thrown back in a hearty laugh. "What?"

"Are you starting a new fashion or something?" he asked. Matthew raised an eyebrow. Alfred rolled his eyes and replied, "You're shirt is inside out for one, and it's backward too."

Matthew looked down and blushed in realization. He yanked his shirt off on the front lawn, catching a giggle from the girls walking adjacent to them on the sidewalk. The Canadian felt his skin crawl with the extra attention and heard his shirt rip as he forced it over his head. He wiped his hair out of his face and met eyes with Alfred, who had his eyebrows raised. There was a pause before Matthew cleared his throat.

"Now can we go on our ride?" Matthew grumbled, hopping on his bike.

Alfred shook his head and replied, "Yeah, sure." He climbed onto his blue bike and strapped his helmet onto his chin. Matthew took the lead, peddling down the street and turning onto another avenue.

This had been a tradition with the boys for the past five years. Every Saturday around 8:00 in the summer, they'd hop on their bikes and ride around the neighborhood. Since they didn't hang out during school hours, the two caught up on the weekends. Everyone in their neighborhood knew the two were inseparable, but when they were in a school setting, you wouldn't have thought the two had anything in common.

"Hey, let's stop at the playground," Matthew called back to Alfred. "I need to take a break."

"Oh, sure," Alfred replied. He looked down at his watch to realize the two had been riding for almost forty-five minutes straight already. Their bikes slid to a stop, and Alfred sat on a bench by the playground. Matthew walked over, took a drink from a nearby water fountain, and washed a bit of the sweat off of his forehead. He stood up and shook his head back and forth, spraying water all over Alfred. The older boy yelped in surprise and wiped the water from his face.

"Gee, thanks," he grumbled.

"You're welcome," Matthew replied and slicked his hair back. Alfred grabbed his water bottle from his bike and waited for Matthew to turn his way before squirting it in his neighbor's face.

"Ha, now we're even," Alfred smirked.

Matthew was going to reply, but held his tongue, offering a sly smile and held his hands up protectively in return. "Yeah, you got me Al."

"Yes," Alfred pumped his fists in the air. Matthew sat beside his neighbor and leaned his head back to rest on the bench.

"Summer's coming soon. That means swimming."

"More biking," Alfred added.

"Hotter weather."

"Air Conditioning."

"Ice cream trucks."

"The sour-puss limey Arthur."

"My cousin."

"Flavored popsicles that - wait, who?" Alfred sprung up to get a better look at his neighbor.

"Oh, um, my cousin is coming over from France in June. Something about going to a fashion institution in the city. Mom said he could stay here while he went to school so he wouldn't have to pay for room and board."

"Great, another Frenchie," Alfred grumbled. "That'll make mom ecstatic."

Matthew sat up and looked at his older neighbor. "Yeah, but he's not that bad."

"Name one thing my mom likes about the French. Just one and I'll eat a huge pile of dog shit." Matthew choked back a laugh and tried to think of something, but he slumped back on the bench. "Yeah, exactly. She's going to flip when she finds out we have more French neighbors. Your mom and dad don't count, because you're Canadian French, but she still doesn't like when your mom and dad speak it and stuff. Why does she have to be so racist?"

"You know, Al, you can be pretty racist yourself."

"I am not!"

"You constantly call my friend Ivan a communist. Russia wasn't even a communist country when he was born."

"I know," he replied. "I just... he's so... argh!" Alfred scrambled to pick up his water bottle before it fell off the bench and placed it next to him. "What was I talking about?"

"Sunflowers," Matthew smiled.

"Ha-ha." Alfred deadpanned and continued, "Okay, so I can be a little racist, but he deserves it. The guy's a creep."

"Don't forget, he's still my friend," Matthew grumbled.

"And that Dutch guy from Holland-"

"The Netherlands," Matthew corrected.

"Same thing. I know he's doing some type of drug. Why do you hang around those guys anyway?"

"Maybe because they actually have a brain? And you obviously don't care about my social life in school," Matthew murmured.

Alfred felt his voice catch in his throat. "Matt, it's nothing personal. It's just-"

"I know. You have your social life and I have mine. I just feel like sometimes I'm so invisible to the rest of the world. I mean, you're Mr. Popularity and I'm Ugly Betty."

Alfred's eyebrows furrowed. "Matt, you're not ugly. And you're not invisible. Just because I know everyone in the school doesn't mean I have a lot of friends. It just means I don't shut up."

"That you don't," Matthew chuckled to himself. "But Alfred, you have everything. Your mom and dad are drop dead rich and buy you everything you want. You're on the varsity football team as the backup quarterback, and you're only a sophomore! You're the star on the baseball team and took them to districts last year, something our school hasn't done in three decades. You're perfect."

There was a pause between the two before Alfred sighed. "You know, I'm jealous of you too."

Matthew snorted. "Jealous? Of me? I don't see why."

"You have two amazing friends who would die for you. Your mom and dad love you to death and support you no matter what. You have mad artistic skills and your acoustic guitar playing is amazing. You're so nice and nothing bothers you. You're a straight A student, and let's face it, you're the best geography tutor I've ever had."

Matthew smiled. "I'm the only geography tutor you've ever had. And you're still failing."

"But it's so boring!" Alfred mumbled and took a swig of water from his bottle. He looked down at his watch and gasped. "I'm going to be late! Mom will kill me if I'm not back in time to help make lunch."

"You mean burn lunch," Matthew smiled.

"Hey, I only burned my food once."

"Alfred, you burned salad! How do you burn salad?"

"I swear that lettuce wasn't on the stove burner last time I checked." The two laughed for a few minutes and climbed onto their bikes, struggling for breath. Matthew swung his leg around his bike and pushed off to go, but Alfred hovered over his bike for a moment.

"Matthew Williams, you get back here!" He yelled, hopping off his bike and running after his friend, who laughed in reply.

~0~

"Oh come on, Alfred. It was just a joke, and you _did_ deserve it."

"But I'm late! When my mom catches me, she's going to bury me alive and dance on my grave. No joke!"

"Look, I'm sorry. Maybe it wasn't the best idea."

"You think?" Alfred motioned to his back tire. "Where am I going to get the air to replace that exactly?"

"Well..." Matthew cursed under his breath. "I'll go down to the gas station and fill it back up for you."

"Ah don't worry about it. You can't push two bikes at the same time," he grumbled. He was still wondering how Matthew managed to let the air out without noticing.

Matthew furrowed his eyebrows. "Al, I really am sorry. How can I make it up to you?"

"Do my geography study packet for the final and we'll call it even."

"But you won't learn- fine," Matthew pouted. The two pulled off into the gas station and filled Alfred's back tire up with air. Alfred jumped on his bike and peddled down toward his house with Matthew yelling behind him. The American didn't pay attention to the younger boy, his mind only focusing on getting home before his mom found out he was late. He jumped over the top of the hill and barreled down the other side, his wheel jerking back and forth from going so fast.

Alfred felt the bike drop from underneath him. His bike wheel drove off into the distance without the rest of the bike and his body soared over the top of the handle bars. He flipped over in the air and landed on his wrist. From there, he rolled over onto his back and backward onto his neck. Alfred tumbled over again and heard a loud crack as his head collided with the ground. The boy tumbled and somersaulted down the hill until he came to a skidding halt at the bottom.

Matthew's bike slid on its side beside the American. Matthew tossed his bike and Alfred's forgotten helmet to the ground and clamored over his neighbor. "Al, are you okay?" He waited for a breath, a noise, a twitch, anything to make sure Alfred was still alive. "Al, can you hear me? Alfred! ALFRED!"

**To be continued…**

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><p>Okay, I'm going to hide from you all now for another week. *runs away*<p> 


	6. Swift Recovery

Okay, before you come at me with torches and pitchforks, give me a minute to explain myself. The last week I posted (August 25th to be exact) was when my state was hit by Hurricane Irene. The constant rain caused a bit of flooding in my place, so I had to work around the rain and my daily life schedule. Then the week I wanted to get this chapter up to you all, we got hit really hard again last week (which caused a lot of flooding/road closings/school delays/etc. and I had to work extra shifts because I live in a "dry area." Hence the cut of my free time. Then my basement gave way and started to flood. D:

Thankfully, my personal life has freed up enough for me to read/edit/post this chapter for you. And since you've all been so patient (you're all saints!), I'm going to post the next chapter after this one. And hopefully, another on Friday. So Merry Christmas to you all! :D

And, for the reviews I couldn't reply to:

**hime ():** Oh my gosh, your reviews always make me smile! 8D Wow, nothing… nothing I can improve on? You flatter me! *o* Ahaha, already making guesses on who the fire guy is? Well then, maybe it is Alfred… but maybe it isn't. ;) Same goes for Matthew's cousin… though I think it's pretty obvious. XD Artwork? ARTWORK! I think I'd cry rivers of joy! TTuTT You are totally and undisputably awesome.

Now, without further ado, please enjoy the next two chapters! :D

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><p>Chapter 6 – Swift Recovery<p>

Alfred's eyes fluttered half open, blue orbs sliding to each side. Blurs of color danced in his vision and meshed into solid objects. His whole body ached and refused to follow any commands he gave it. A dull humming noise sang from his left with rhythmic bleeps coming from the side of it. Alfred let go of the breath he had been holding and let his body relax.

Warm? Why did his right hand feel warmer than the rest of his body? Alfred forced his eyes open once again to glance to his right. A hand wove around his bandaged fingers. Alfred followed the arm and stopped at a mess of strawberry blond hair. Its owner's chest rose up and down in smooth proximity to Alfred's beating heart. He wanted to reach out to the blond hair, to stroke away the strands hiding the person's face from his sight, but he let his other hand rest at his side.

Alfred took in another deep breath and stopped when his whole chest lit on fire. He yelped in pain and released a shaky breathe. The person beside him jumped into an alert sitting position, whipping his head around to find out where the noise originated from.

"Alfred," a calm voice called out to him. He turned his head to the right, a light smile gracing his lips.

"Hey, Mattie," he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. He struggled to catch his breath. "What's up?"

Matthew placed delicate fingers to his lips and stroked a stray hair from Alfred's vision. "You're an idiot, you know that?"

"I know," Alfred let his head fall back to facing forward. "What happened? I remember flying in the air and then… nothing."

"Your bike broke," Matthew reminded him. "The front wheel snapped right off because you were going way to fast. You're lucky to be alive."

"Well, lucky is my middle name," Alfred replied smiling. "Well, if I didn't believe in God before, I do now."

Matthew rolled his eyes and shook his head. "You know-"

The door cracked open, slamming against the wall and bouncing back again until it was stopped by a firm, slender hand. "Where is he? Oh my god is he all right?" A girl with long black hair pulled into a flawless ponytail bounced into the room. Her coffee eyes locked onto Alfred, and tears welled up in her eyes. "Oh, Alfred!"

Matthew rolled his eyes and backed up, sitting back in the chair he was resting in. He noticed the forced smile and groan from Alfred's lips.

"Hey, Latyoya," he greeted, though it was more of a whimper. Latoya belted forward, jumping on top of the American boy and wrapping her arms around his neck. Alfred bit down a scream that died in his throat as tears battled to escape the corner of his eyes.

"Hey, you're going to hurt him," Matthew sprung up to try and shake Latoya off of Alfred, but she pushed the Canadian away.

"Oh, _Trofeo_, when I heard what happened, I nearly died. Are you all right?" She sat up, tears dripping freely from her face. "You can still play football, can't you?"

Alfred smiled and let out a weak chuckle, "Of course, Latoya. Well, when I'm all fixed up anyway."

She sighed and replied, "Good, because that would seriously kill the both of us. Especially my pride."

Matthew flinched upon hearing her words, his eyes wide. He clenched his fists in his lap but released them soon as his nails broke his skin. Latoya looked over in his direction and wrinkled her nose.

"What's _he_ doing here?" she hissed, eyeing over Matthew.

"Oh, Mattie's my next door neighbour," Alfred replied, looking over at Matthew and smiling.

"I'm the one who saved his life," Matthew growled and muttered in French under his breath.

"Oh," came her reply as she plastered on a fake smile. "Well thanks I guess... um…"

"Matthew," he replied. Latoya rolled her eyes and mouthed 'whatever' before returning her gaze to Alfred. "Hey, you feel better soon, _Trofeo_." She blew a kiss and trotted out of the room, dialling her cell phone and chattering away in Spanish as she left. Matthew felt his stomach bubble inside of him.

"Honestly, I don't see how you can date her," he muttered, debating on whether or not to give her the middle finger as she waved good-bye to Alfred.

"How can't I?" Alfred's eyes seemed mesmerized. "She's beautiful, funny, and a hell of a good time."

"Yeah, she's perfect."

"I knew you'd agree."

Matthew rubbed his temples. "I'm going to head home for the night. I don't want my parents staying up for me." He grabbed his book from the counter and walked over to the door. Before he left, he turned around and waved. "See you tomorrow, Alfred."

Alfred's mouth hung open and he formed his lips to say something but soon turned them into a light smile. "Yeah, bye." Matthew felt his heart warm up and he smiled back, the weight of what recently occurred lifting off of his shoulders.

~o~

"Lucky bastard," Willem muttered as he relaxed a little too far in his seat. The chair teetered backward and he shot forward to keep himself from falling. Matthew shook his head and tried to hold in his laughter. "Maybe I should try it sometime."

"I doubt you'd want to," Matthew whispered, looking over at the teacher glaring daggers at the two. He turned around in his seat and began scribbling on a piece of paper.

'_He nearly paralyzed himself. I don't think that'd be fun for anyone.'_ Matthew handed the notebook back to Willem, who wrote a reply back.

_But he got out of all his finals! That's like every high schooler's dream. :) _

_Maybe, but he still has to make them up._

_Bummer. =( Dream's dead._

_Lol. Along with you. Hey, why wasn't Ivan here this morning? =|_

_Something about his sister coming home. Idk he doesn't tell me everything you know. _

_Oh, Anya's coming back? Score! I can't wait to see her again. I can't believe it's been almost two months since I've seen her. Feels like forever._

Matthew passed the notebook back and looked up at the clock. His eyes were hypnotized by the second hand, wishing that the day would soon end and he could go visit Alfred in the hospital. _Three more minutes. Come on, bell. Ring already!_

Willem tapped the notebook on Matthew's back, and the Canadian turned to grab the notebook from his senior friend.

_Yeah, yeah, just let me know when you're not a virgin anymore. Speaking of girlfriends, I heard Latoya is taking Alfred's condition well._

Matthew's stomach churned once again.

_That bitch. She wouldn't know an asshole from her face. _

_Ouch. Something happen? =\_

Matthew grabbed the pencil to write down his thoughts when the school bell rang. He swung his backpack over his shoulder and scooped his backpack up in his arms. Willem strutted behind him, wondering whether it was safe or not to question the Canadian. Matthew stopped at his locker and twisted in his combination, yanking the locker open and flinching when it hit the parallel locker.

Willem cleared his throat and folded his arms. "The locker didn't do anything to you."

Matthew slammed the locker shut and pressed his head against the cool metal. "I know, I just… never mind. You wouldn't get it."

Willem raised a questioning eyebrow before his sister grabbed his arm and yanked him down the hallway. Matthew smiled as Willem looked back at him with unreadable eyes, but Matthew didn't feel like stepping in. He waited for the hallway to empty out before exiting the building and looking up at the sky. The gray clouds overhead rumbled and a gentle breeze burst into a powerful gust of wind, thrashing Matthew's hair all around his head.

"Of all days for the weather man to be right," Matthew grumbled and trudged through the green grass. He hopped onto his bicycle and peddled as fast as he could toward the hospital. As soon as he reached the next corner, the sky let loose. Rain pounded down between his glasses and his eyebrows, stinging his eyes. He recovered his balance when the wind blew so hard his bike swerved right. Thunder crashed above his head and lightening danced in the horizon. He cried out in anger and turned his bike around, pulling into his garage.

Matthew sat on the garage pavement, yanking his shoes off without untying them and throwing them at the side of the garage door. For a moment, he sat there dripping on the floor. Hopefully Alfred would understand why he didn't come today. He stood up, and rung out the bottom of his shirt, the water splattered on the floor and started a microscopic stream to the garage door. Matthew's hand slid on the door handle when he tried to open it, so he picked up a paper towel beside him and opened the door.

As he walked in and shut the door behind him, the stairs shook as thundering paws climbed down. Matthew cried out as a patch of white fur tackled him to the ground, adding more moisture to his face.

"Whoa, hey, Kuma, let me breathe!" the boy laughed as he held up his hands. He managed to push the dog off of him and sat up, picking his hazy glasses off his face. "I don't need a bath today. How did you get in anyway?" He looked over at the screen door, which was pushed in. "Oh, nevermind."

The massive dog sat, wagging his tail and staring at his master. Matthew cleaned off his glasses and looked over at the dog. "Okay, I get it." He picked up the dog's food bowl and filled it to the top with food, placing it in front of the blissful Newfoundland puppy. He ruffled the dog's head fur and walked upstairs into his bedroom. Flopping face first onto his bed, Matthew snuggled into his pillow and closed his eyes, taking in deep comforting breaths.

…

"Yeah I know that you want to be Canadian, please, even though in winter things-"

Matthew managed to grip onto his cell phone and place it up to his ear. "Hello," he mumbled rubbing an eye.

"Mattie!"

"Alfred. Do you know what time it is?" He looked at the clock, which read a little past midnight. Matthew felt a twang in his heart. "I'm sorry, Al. I didn't-"

"Dude, I can walk! Isn't it awesome?"

Matthew felt a smile tug at his lips. "That's great, Al. How far did you get?"

"I made it all the way to the door without falling over. Though my ankle still hurts like hell."

"Well that's what you get for twisting it." Matthew laughed. "What did your mom say?"

"She doesn't know. You're the first person I called. It seemed fair, since you're the only one who visits me every day."

"About that-"

"No worries, dude. I saw the killer storm out there. If it was me…"

Matthew smiled as his words seemed to quell his worries. He looked out his window toward the abandoned bedroom that Alfred used to reside in. As much as his neighbour irritated him, he knew very well he couldn't imagine his life without him.

"Well, I should probably let you get back to sleep. You do have school tomorrow. Night Mattie!"

"Ni-" Matthew's voice stopped when he heard the phone click on the other side. Of course, he could live without the obnoxious, egotistical attitude. He glared at his phone before placing it next to him again, and snuggled in closer to Kuma, who was lying next to him. He'd teach his pet not to sleep on the bed later.

**To be continued…**

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><p>Next part should be up in about 15 minutes or so. :)<p> 


	7. Swift Return

Hope you enjoy the second chapter posted tonight… and accept my apologies. =(

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><p>Chapter 7 – Swift Return<p>

Alfred straightened his shirt and pushed his bangs back into place. He ran his fantasy through his head once again, how Matthew would crash into his arms and start crying dramatically. And he, the hero, would be there to comfort him and fly him off into the sunset. The moment had to be perfect, and he knew it.

"Well, hey, Mattie, look who's here… no, uh… Well, I see you haven't changed a bit. Yeah… that's … no. Ah… I'm here and I'm… I'm in trouble."

Alfred thumped his forehead on the door. He swallowed whatever was left in his throat and scratched his neck. Why did he have so much trouble finding the right words to say to Matthew? He knew his friend for about ten years now, and he still couldn't think of a decent thing to say. Finally, he straightened up, cleared his throat, and rang the doorbell. When the door unlocked, he opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted to a wet tongue to the face.

"What the-" Alfred sputtered as the dog continued to attack his face with kisses. He felt the dog slowly get off of him, and he sat up wiping his face. Matthew was holding the dog back by the collar, trying not to laugh at his neighbour.

"Well, look who it is." Matthew smiled. "Home at last, eh?"

"Yeah," Alfred straightened his posture. "Finally free of that hospital. Though I must say the dog is new."

Matthew clicked his tongue and sighed. "This big ball of fuzz is Kumajiro, our new Newfoundland. Mom did a story at the local animal shelter and this little guy caught her eye. Since he was two years old, the place pretty much thought he wasn't going to find a home and said they'd have to put him down. And you know how soft my mom is."

"Softer than butter in July," Alfred replied, smiling. "He better not chase Oreo around my yard."

"Well, keep your cat out of our yard and we'll see."

Rapid French stopped Alfred in mid reply. He stood up and looked behind Matthew. Matthew's eyes widened and his face reddened. He shot back something else in French and was joined by a slightly taller man. The man raised a blonde eyebrow and stroked the fuzz on his chin.

"Who is this, _Mathieu_?" He asked, his blue eyes glancing up and down Alfred, who stiffened in return.

"Oh, Francis, I'd like you to meet Alfred, my next door neighbour. Alfred, this is my cousin, Francis," Matthew introduced.

"Oh," Alfred felt his skin tingle. "Well hey there."

"_Hello,_" Francis replied. "_You have a really cute neighbour, Matthew. Have you two ever da-"_ Matthew elbowed his cousin in the gut.

"Now, Francis, didn't Auntie tell you it's not polite to speak in a language someone doesn't understand?" he hissed through his teeth. "_Besides, I already have a girlfriend_."

"_Oh, but Mathieu-"_

"We'll talk about this later," he smiled and turned to Alfred, who found interest in the butterfly bush out front. "Would you like to come in, Alfred?"

"Sure." He perked up and added, "Anything to keep me away from home."

Matthew snickered and let his neighbour in the house. "So, I guess you came over to play a game or two, eh?"

"Hell yeah." Alfred smirked. "Did you get anything new?"

"Ah, I did, but you wouldn't really like it."

"Try me." Alfred grinned and folded his arms. Matthew held up a game case and smirked. Alfred felt his stomach twist in a knot. "They still make those."

"Oh, don't tell me you're chickening out."

"Of course not!" Alfred grabbed a controller. "Consider it a game."

~o~

Alfred winced as he placed the ice pack over his eye. Matthew held in his laughter as he put a band aid on his neighbour's cheek.

"I warned you," Matthew sung.

"Yeah, that we were playing a game. You didn't tell me it'd turn out into wrestling!"

"Oh come on. What's hockey without a fight. Besides, it's your fault for hooking me." Matthew walked into the kitchen and turned to face his neighbour. "You want something to drink?"

"Coke," Alfred grunted, not turning to face Matthew. Matthew walked back into the room and handed Alfred his glass. "So, where'd your cousin go?"

Matthew shrugged. "I don't know. He goes out for a walk around this time and comes home in a better mood than ever."

Alfred hummed. "What time is it anyway?"

"It's going for 7:30. Why?"

"Shit, I gotta get home!" Alfred jumped up, careful not to spill his drink on the white carpet. "I'm late!"

"Late for what?"

"You know how mom gets," Alfred shuffled over to the door and struggled to get his shoes on.

"I'd help if you untied the laces."

"Shut up!" Alfred stood up and said a quick "good-bye" before slamming the door behind him. Matthew chuckled and set the controllers back on top of the television.

~o~

"I'm home!" Alfred slammed the door open, panting, and looked at his mother. She dropped the paper down on the table and stood up, folding her arms.

"You're late. Again," she growled. Mrs. Jones suddenly unfolded her arms and wrapped them around her son. "Welcome back, Alfred."

Alfred's stunned eyes soon softened and he wrapped his arms around his mom. "It's great to see you too, mom." Alfred paused and listened to the voice from outside. The door was slammed open and Arthur walked in, slamming it shut behind his back. Alfred took a moment to survey the situation. _Oh yeah… summers meant him too._

"What's up, Artie. You're red as a cherry," Alfred chuckled.

"I thought I told you not to call me that," Arthur growled. "That next door neighbour of ours is a menace!"

"Oh, come on. Mattie's not that bad."

"Not him," he spoke as he pointed out the window. "_Him_!"

"Who, Francis?" Alfred watched as the Frenchman disappeared behind the white fence.

"At least now I know what to put on the restraining order," Arthur grumbled. "So where have you been, Alfred?"

Alfred's eyebrows furrowed. "Mom didn't tell you?"

"Didn't tell me what?"

Alfred felt his jaw drop. "That I was… well I-"

"He crashed his bicycle while going down a hill and split his head open," his mother spoke, returning to her paper. "Sorry I didn't mention it earlier. You did just get her yesterday after all."

"I've been here over three weeks already," Arthur interjected.

"Oh my, has it really been that long? I've been a bit busy lately."

"Yeah, so busy you couldn't come see me." Alfred hissed under his breath.

"What was that, boy?"

"Nothing."

Mrs. Jones narrowed her eyes. "You know what I've told you about lying, Alfred Foster Jones."

Alfred felt the heat rise to his face. "I'm just glad work means more to you than me, that's all."

Mrs Jones slammed her paper on the desk. "I have a very important job, Alfred. I'm sorry that I couldn't come to see you, but it's very strenuous on me."

"You couldn't come to see me for five minutes during one of your breaks?"

"Now, Alfred-"

"Now nothing! Five minutes, mom. Is that too much to ask?"

Mrs Jones stood up from the table and stormed over to her office, slamming the door. Arthur glanced between Alfred and his mother's studio and cleared his throat. "Alfred, if I may have a word with you upstairs." He grabbed Alfred's arm, whispering to him to "Leave it go," and they both escalated to the second floor.

"Can you believe her?" Alfred yelled as Arthur shut his door. "Of all the rotten no good- you know she didn't even come to see me once while I was there? Not once!"

"Calm down, Alfred. I know she seems harsh, but-"

"But what? She basically just told me her social life was more important to me. Why didn't I move out to California with dad instead of staying in this hellhole with this witch?"

"Now Alfred, I-"

"I mean, doesn't she even care that I could've died? If it wasn't for Mattie, I wouldn't even be here. I can't believe that she really doesn't give a rat's ass about me."

"Alfred, I know that she's-"

"What? What could you possibly know about any of this?"

"Because I know what it's like to have a mother who doesn't care!" Arthur stood up from the bed, his face twisted in anger. "You know, ever since I got here, she came home with red eyes and crashed on the couch. Every night I would wake up to her crying and clinging onto your baby pictures. I don't think she got a wink of sleep for the past month I've been here. Now, my mother could care less whether I go back to the house or not. Why do you think she ships me here every summer? And what's worse, now that I've graduated, she doesn't even care if I come back to the United Kingdom." Alfred held his breath as Arthur collapsed on the bed. "Not her, not my dad, not my brothers. No one cares about me."

"Oh, come on dude, I care about you," Alfred smiled, sitting on the bed next to his cousin.

"Yeah right. You think I'm mental for believing in magic." Arthur wiped a tear from the corner of his eye with his palm.

"Well yeah, I don't always agree with you, but I don't hate you." Arthur took a moment for his words to sink in. Alfred smiled and lay down beside him. "Hey, would it make you feel better if I said fairies are real?"

Arthur let out a broken laugh before replying, "Oh, shut it you twit." He punched Alfred playfully in the arm.

"Hey, heroes don't make people sad," Alfred replied. "But I'm glad you didn't make me say I believed in that magical shit."

"Now, hold on here. This is coming from the same person who believes in aliens?"

"Well, at least we have proof that aliens exist. I mean hello? Ever see those weird crop circles?"

"Those are just crazy farmers looking for attention."

"Oh, and like the smudge on that ghost picture was real?"

"It was real!"

"Yeah, yeah, I'll believe it when I see it."

"You insufferable git!"

Alfred laughed and held up his fists as Arthur began insulting him. Everything seemed as it should have at that moment, and that's all that mattered to him.

**To be continued…**

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><p>Now, hopefully I can stay on schedule with this for the rest of the story. *crosses her fingers*<p> 


	8. Swift Jealousy

Hmm, I'm finding my Saturdays easier to update for some reason. Maybe it's because I'm so dog tired on Friday. Oh, and you're not seeing things. We did change our username. =) **Ookami of Mystery** kind of lost its meaning to us, so we changed it to **AmeriCanada Love**. Anyway, enjoy the next chapter! =D

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><p>Chapter 8 – Swift Jealousy<p>

Twisting his binoculars tighter to focus the image in front of him, Alfred licked his lips and hid in the roses on his railing. He wished he could hear the conversation unfolding in Matthew's backyard, but for now he'd have to settle on reading lips. The bee that buzzed by his ear stole his concentration and nearly his cover as he fell backwards with a light cry. For a moment, he lay on the balcony, listening for anyone to come by and call attention to him. After making sure the coast was clear, he straightened himself up again and resumed his spying.

"What are you doing?"

Alfred yelped as his shirt collar was yanked back, and he was staring into emerald eyes. "Oh, hey Artie."

Arthur hissed through his teeth, "It's Arthur you insufferable git."

"Yeah, yeah, lecture me later." Alfred wriggled free and resumed his spying.

"Are you checking out your neighbour?" Arthur raised an eyebrow.

"No!" Alfred growled and looked back at his cousin. "First off, he's just a friend. Second, I'm trying to find out who that girl is in his yard."

"If you're so curious, why don't you just ask her?"

"That's a great idea. Why didn't I think of that before? I bet Mattie could use the company anyway. What's a day without Alfred F. Jones?"

"A gift."

"See you later, Artie," Alfred darted past his cousin, nearly knocking him over.

"And it's not… uh, never mind," Arthur leaned over the railing and made sure a certain "frog" wasn't around anywhere.

~USCan~

"So, Francis, I hear you're having fun with our neighbour," Matthew smirked as he sipped his tea.

"Of course," came his cousin's light hearted reply. "He's got such a short fuse; it's fun to play with him."

"Sure you don't have any other intentions?"

"_No, at least none to mention in front of your girlfriend. It might give you two ideas_" Francis smiled and winked. Matthew felt his face heat up and he hid his mouth behind his tea cup. The girl cocked her head and blinked her blue eyes. Matthew looked over at her and cleared his throat, bringing his cup back beside him onto its plate companion.

"Francis, didn't I tell you it's rude to speak a language someone else doesn't understand?"

"What's a little harmless French among friends?"

"Oh no, Matvey, I don't mind," she smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear. "I think it's cute when you speak French."

Matthew couldn't hide his grin as his cheeks lit up. Francis raised his eyebrows seductively and grinned at Matthew, who kicked him under the table. The Frenchman held in a yelp and rubbed his throbbing ankle.

"So, Matvey, who's this Alfred I've heard so much about?" the girl questioned, taking a sip of lemonade.

"Oh, um, he's my next door neighbour. Actually, I'm surprised that he hasn't-"

"Hello humans!" The white fence gate burst open and Alfred marched through it. "Hey, how's my favourite Canadian doing today?" He walked over and grabbed Matthew in a headlock, rubbing his hair and looking innocently over at the girl next to him. "Oh, Mattie, who's your friend?" He tried to keep his eyes focused on hers, but found his gaze dipping down every once and a while.

"Al, this is Anya. Anya, this is Alfred." Matthew tried to smile as he hissed through his teeth.

"Oh, so this is the famous Alfred?" She smiled. "It's nice to meet you."

"_The_ Alfred F. Jones at your service." Alfred grinned. "Glad I'm well known in the neighbourhood. So, how long have you and little Mattie been friends?" Alfred opened his mouth to continue but grunted as Matthew stomped on his foot. He released his grip around Matthew's head and took a step backward.

Matthew looked back at Alfred and cleared his throat. "Actually, Anya has been my girlfriend for almost a year now." He spoke under his breath, "not that you would've cared."

"Oh, well then…" Alfred's mouth hovered open for a moment.

Matthew's eyes lit up. "Oh, do my ears deceive me? Does the great Alfred Foster Jones have nothing to say?"

"Alfred _Foster_ Jones?" Anya cocked her head.

"It's my middle name, and I thought I told you not to call me that," Alfred grumbled through his teeth.

"Must have slipped my mind." Matthew smirked as Alfred stuck his tongue out. Francis shifted in his seat and rested his left leg on top of the right.

"So," Alfred took a seat at the table right next to Matthew, nearly pushing Anya off the bench. "Anya, you have an accent. What are you, German or something?"

"Oh, no," she giggled. "I was originally from Russia, but I moved to the Ukraine when my family moved to the United States."

"Oh," Alfred's grin dropped and he cleared his throat. "So, what, are you Ivan's cousin or something?" He took Matthew's tea cup and sipped some of its contents, ignoring Matthew's word of caution.

"Actually, I'm his older sister?"

Alfred spit out the drink and wiped his tongue with a napkin. "You're his _older_ sister?" Matthew stifled a giggle.

"Ah, I'm sure I don't look like it," she laughed and tucked the same strand of hair behind her ear, "but I am at least three years older than him."

"So, what, that makes you like… 6 years older than Mattie, right?"

"That's right." She nodded and took another sip of her drink. Alfred ran his fingers through his hair and chewed on his lower lip.

Matthew cleared his throat and stood up. "Well, I'd love to stay and chat, but I have a picnic to prepare."

"I'll help," Francis spoke, jumping up and following his cousin. "_French chef extraordinaire Francis Bonnefoy at your service._" Matthew rolled his eyes and walked over to the grill. Anya watched them go, took in a breath, and sipped from the straw in front of her. Alfred ran a hand through his hair again, rested his elbow on the table to support his head, and forced air through his lips. Anya looked over at him with unreadable eyes.

"So, um, Albert-"

"Alfred," he corrected, looking sideways and quirking an eyebrow.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" She covered her mouth and tears welled up in her eyes. "Did I offend you? I didn't mean to forget your-"

"Whoa there," Alfred jumped up and chuckled slightly. "You didn't offend me. Chill out, it's just a name."

"Right, I'm sorry. It's just, Matvey hates when I forget his name, and I feel terrible when I hurt people, and I didn't-"

"Hey, it's okay." Alfred put a hand on her shoulder. "It's cool."

Anya played with her hair and looked at him with smiling eyes. "I see what he means."

"What?" Alfred cocked his head.

"Oh, it's just," she looked away for a moment and then returned to his eyes, "Matvey said your smile could heal the deepest wound."

"He did," Alfred's face brightened and he lost himself for a moment. Anya eyed him, waiting for a response, and played with her fingers.

"Um, yes," Anya searched her mind for something to say. "So, why don't you talk to him in school at all? I mean, you're best friends here, but there you're totally different people. Are you embarrassed about him or something?"

"No!" Alfred barked, and drew his lips in a straight line. "It's just… he wouldn't fit in with my friends. They're always in the limelight, the idle of the school, you know… the top dogs in the junkyard. Mattie… well he wouldn't feel comfortable with all that attention. It's not all it's cracked up to be, having the spotlight on you all the time. I mean, I love the attention to death, but I have no privacy. I feel like I can't be myself or they'll reject me."

"Then why do you even hang out with them?"

"It's kind of expected of me." He scratched his head. "Jocks with jocks, bandies with bandies, nerds with-"

"Nerds… I get the point."

"Right. If I didn't do any of that stuff, people might start to doubt me. They'd start to think I'm weird or crazy or some kind of alien from outer space. Then they'll think I'm going to abduct them and do tests on them, and then before you know it, I have an angry mob with torches and pitchforks driving me out of town, and we all know how those end up."

Anya stared at him and let out a nervous giggle. "Wow, Alfred, you have quite an active imagination there."

"Thanks," he beamed. "You know, talking to you is like therapy. How do you do it?"

"Well, my brother always comes to me with some sort of problem, and no matter how far I run, he always seems to find me." She started shaking a bit. "It's a bit nerve wracking actually. But he's a great big brother once you get to know him."

"I bet," Alfred scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"And my friends back home say I'm pretty good with that stuff. And I also have a degree in child psychology."

Alfred hummed. "That sounds fun."

Anya and Alfred both stared at anything but each other, once and a while glancing over to see if the other was still there. Alfred could feel his nerves act up, and he chewed at his bottom lip. "Um, Anya, is Mattie really serious about you?"

Anya blinked twice and her jaw dropped. "Yes, at least I hope he is. Why did he tell you something? Oh, I knew this would never work out."

"No, no, please don't cry," Alfred waved his hands in defence. "I was just asking."

"Okay, if you're sure. Hey, Alfred, why would you ask a question like that anyway?" Anya asked, sniffling and wiping her eyes.

"Nothing, forget I said anything. I, uh, have to go home. I just remembered I have to feed my cat." He jumped up from the table, refusing to meet her gaze and walked through the fence. She watched him leave, wondering if she should say something or not, but absentmindedly sat there with her mouth hung open and waiting for him to turn back around.

"Why would he ask a question like that," she mused, rubbing her shoulders. "Maybe he and Matvey used to be lovers or something. What if he's heartbroken because he thinks Matvey left because of me? Oh, this is all my fault."

"Anya, we are almost ready for the barbecue. How do you like your-" Francis blinked and watched the shaking girl. He walked over and took a seat by her. "Oh, _little kitten_, what is wrong?"

"I-I think I ru-ruined Alfred and Matvey's re-re-relations-ship," she sniffled.

"Oh no, I'm sure nothing you could say could hurt Alfred. He's too-"

"No, I mean, I think they were in love, and Matvey chose me over him."

"What? Mathieu and Alfred have never been in love," Francis replied. "That's silly."

"What's silly?" Matthew asked, carrying some hot dogs over on a tray. "Where's Alfred? I made extra hamburgers for him."

Francis asked, raising his eyebrows and smiling coyly, "Mathieu, is there something you forgot to tell me?"

"About what."

"Matvey, were you and Alfred once… lovers?"

Matthew scrunched up his nose and blinked. "What? Okay, first off… no. Second, he's just a friend, and that's all he'll ever be."

"Are you sure?" Anya asked, gazing into his eyes. He swallowed and put the hot dogs on the table, laughing.

"No, Anya, I love you. What would make you say something like that?" He shot a nasty glare at Francis.

She looked away. "Well, I don't know. He seemed kind of…"

"You know, let's forget this ever happened and have a great barbecue," Francis wrapped his arms around the two. "After all, we don't want _Mathieu's_ wonderful food to go to waste."

"Um…" Anya looked down. "Francis..."

"Yes, _little kitten_?" Francis cooed.

"Would you mind moving your hand? It's kind of on my, um…"

"Oh I know."

Matthew swung his elbow back and nailed Francis straight in the gut. Francis cradled the afflicted area with both arms and groaned. Matthew took Anya by the hand and pulled her off the bench, bringing her to the grill.

"Come on, Anya. You can tell me how you like your hamburgers."

**To be continued…**

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><p>Eek, three chapters in one week. I hope you don't get too used to this... tell me what you think!<p> 


	9. Swift Regrets

Another chapter down! You're all going to love me for this one, I know it. XD

Oh, and just a stupid author's note… in my area, fireflies are referred to as 'lightening bugs.' So I'm sorry if that appears anywhere in the story… old habits die hard. XD

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><p>Chapter 9 – Swift Regrets<p>

"Stupid, stupid, stupid!" Alfred slammed his head into the pillow and screamed. His cat, Oreo, lifted its head to look at Alfred before stretching and jumping off the bed. Alfred froze, breathing heavily through his nose. He placed the pillow back onto his lap and rested his back on the headboard of his bed.

"Mattie's just a friend. My brother. We're practically twins! The thought of me and him… gross." He eyed his dresser and reached for a picture frame.

Alfred was wrapped head to toe in a blue blanket with stars on it. His red cheeks and nose poked out from the blanket as his eyes tried to see through fogged up glasses. Matthew was sitting next to him with two cups of hot chocolate and a red robe draped over his shoulders. His white shirt was plastered to his body, and his white and red maple leaf pants shown through the soggy bottom of the shirt.

Alfred smiled at the fond memory. Matthew always did have this strange attraction for the cold. He, on the other hand, would trade winter for a Klondike bar. A light knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.

"Come in," Alfred groaned, placing the picture in its place.

Arthur poked his head in the door. "Alfred, there's a strange girl down here. She said she's your-"

"_Trofeo_!"

Arthur fell over as Latoya burst into the room. She hopped over the Brit and jumped onto Alfred. Alfred hesitated as she landed on him and wrapped his arms around her.

"Latoya, I thought you went on vacation," he chuckled.

"How can I go on vacation when you're finally better? I say we celebrate."

"Excuse me," Arthur pushed himself up and straightened his shirt. "But who is this?"

"Oh, Artie, this is Latoya," He let out a sharp breath as she drove her cheek into his chest, "My girl."

"Well that explains a lot," he murmured. "You know, this is exactly the type of girl I imagined you with."

"Isn't she perfect?" Alfred beamed.

"Lovely." Arthur's lip curled up in disgust.

"Yo, Edward, if you don't mind, Alfred wants to be left alone." Latoya glanced at Arthur out of the corner of her eye and shooed him away with her hand. "_Adios_."

Arthur took in a sharp breath, his eyebrows furrowed, and he balled up his fists. With a growl he stomped out of the room and slammed the door behind him. Latoya sat up as Arthur left, feeling Alfred's muscles relax as he rested against the headboard. Her coffee coloured eyes looked over at him, and she smiled.

"It feels like forever since you've held me like that," her finger played with his shirt. "Are you getting serious with me again?" She eyed him over, waiting for a response. "Oh, Alfred, why don't you look at me like you did before? Don't you love me?"

"Of course I do." He cupped her cheeks and kissed her forehead. "What makes you think that I wouldn't?"

"It's just, I feel like I've done something wrong. We both know that's a lie because I'm perfect, so obviously there's something wrong with you. You do love me, don't you?"

"Of course I do."

"Then prove it."

Alfred leaned over and kissed her on the lips. "See, there's no change."

"No, not like that. I want you to go all the way with me. You keep saying later, but I want you now, Alfred." She straddled his waist, her charcoal hair floating over her shoulders, and placed her nose on his. Latoya fluttered her eyes and smiled. Alfred could smell the cherry lip gloss covering her demon smile.

"You know how I feel about pre-marital sex." He looked away from her hypnotic eyes.

"Oh, come on," she reached down and pulled his hand up, kissing it and playing with the ring on his finger. "Retire this stupid ring and just give in. I know you want me so bad. I can feel it poking me."

Alfred's cheeks turned bright red, and he put a hand on her shoulder to push her back. "Latoya, I'm sorry, but I can't."

"And why not, Alfred Jones? Am I not good enough for you? Prove you love me."

"Latoya I can't-"

"Prove it now or I'm gone!" Alfred stared into her eyes, his mouth hung open in a silent gasp. "Show me you love me, Alfred. I'm sick of waiting for you. Do it now, or I'm breaking up with you. What means more to you: a retarded little promise or your beautiful girlfriend? Choose me now, Alfred."

~USCan~

Matthew lay down on his bed, stomach down, and munched on some walnuts. He flipped the page of his magazine and crossed his feet in the air. Humming a song he heard on the radio, he grabbed his glass of Canada Dry and took a sip through his red straw.

The sunset shone through his windows, and a few stars were becoming evident in the sky. Matthew took a moment to marvel at the multicolored clouds in the sky. Suddenly, Matthew lurched to the right as his dog jumped up on the bed.

"Kumana...ji, get off the bed!" Matthew growled. The massive puppy laid down on Matthew's pillow. Matthew tried to push the puppy off the bed, but gave up after the fifth shove. "Ugh, why did mom give you such a long name anyway?" The dog perked its ears and wagged its tail. "Okay, I guess you could sleep up here just this once, but never again." He was just about to return to his magazine when his cell phone rang. Matthew groaned and recognized the ring tone. About three seconds after the ring had stopped, it started to ring again. Matthew rolled his eyes and opened the phone. "Hey, Al, what's up?"

"Oh my god, Mattie, did I screw up!"

Matthew sat up upon hearing his neighbor's voice. "Alfred, what happened?"

"Latoya came over this afternoon. I thought she was on vacation, but she didn't go because she wanted to see me. I thought it was great at first, but man do I regret it now."

"Okay," Matthew switched his phone from one ear to the other. "Breathe, and tell me what's going on."

"I had sex with her."

"You what?" The phone nearly fell from his hands. "Wait, whatever happened to-"

"She gave me a choice. If I didn't, I was going to lose her. I love her too much, Mattie. I couldn't let her down like that, so I did it."

Matthew felt his blood boil. "Okay, okay. It's not the end of the world."

"But I broke my promise."

"No one has to know, Alfred."

"But it's the principle of the thing."

"Wow, Al, I didn't even think you knew a word that big."

"Mattie!"

"Sorry, but like I said, it's no big deal. You keep it a secret, and no one will know. You're as good as pure."

"But _he_ knows."

Matthew rolled his eyes. "If it bothers you that much, why don't you just take off the ring?" Matthew paused and waited for an answer. "Alfred, you there?"

"You know, I always thought losing my virginity would be great. But it was terrible! I didn't feel anything. You think… maybe I did all this for nothing?"

Matthew felt his heart break inside. Hearing Alfred in such a frail state made his skin crawl. He drew in a deep breath, released it, and spoke, "If she really loved you, Alfred, she wouldn't have made you choose. I know I wouldn't have."

"But I couldn't leave her down. A hero-"

"Needs to think of his own values sometimes. God, Alfred, you're so thick! Was there any time you ever did anything to make yourself happy that wouldn't make someone else happier?" Matthew paused and listened for a response. "Yeah, I thought not. You know, pleasing everyone will only make you feel good to a certain point. If you make everyone happy but yourself, you leave out the most important person. You deserve to be happy, Alfred. And I can't believe I'm saying this, but you're a great person, and no one else should tell you otherwise."

"You really think so?" Alfred's voice contained a grin.

Matthew smiled. "Duh! Dude, she's just one pretty girl. There's thousands of other carbon copy Barbie wannabe's in this world. Find a better one."

"Thanks, Mattie. You know, we haven't camped outside in a while. Would you like to come over tomorrow? We could make s'mores and sleep outside in a tent and tell ghost stories and-"

"Okay, I get the point, Al. Right now, I'd like to get some rest, and I think you should too."

"Alright. See you tomorrow!"

"Bye-" Matthew heard a click on the other end. "Alfred? The hoser hung up on me!"

~USCan~

Matthew rolled up his sleeping bag and grabbed a few things from his dresser he'd need during the night. An owl hooted through his open window, and he closed the window letting the warm summer breeze seep through his room. He glanced around the room one last time before nodding and tromped down the stairs.

"I'll be in Al's backyard if you need me," he called out to his dad, who was flipping through channels on the sofa.

"Have fun," he replied, smiling over at his son. Matthew returned the gesture and slipped on his shoes. The warm breeze knocked him in the face once again, and he closed the door behind him. A dog barked in the distance, and the stars shown perfectly through the dimly lit sky. Crickets chirped in the thick grass, and fireflies danced through the sky.

Matthew took in a deep breath of the night air and walked over to Alfred's back fence. He could already hear Alfred's off-key humming of the 'Star Spangled Banner' in his backyard. As Matthew peered over the fence, his neighbour was setting the marshmallows on the ground, and popped one in his mouth after making sure no one was looking. Oreo was curled up at his side, waiting for the fish Alfred had roasting on the fire to be done as well. Matthew opened the gate as Alfred was about to put another marshmallow into his mouth.

"You're going to turn into a marshmallow soon if you keep sneaking them," Matthew spoke as he walked toward his neighbour.

Alfred jumped, nearly dropping the whole bag of marshmallows and turned around. "Oh, hey Mattie. I didn't hear you come over. I swear you're a ninja."

Matthew sat down and folded his legs like a pretzel. "That's because I'm not 500 pounds."

"I never said that," Alfred spat, marshmallow oozing out his lips.

Matthew curled his lips up and wrinkled his nose. "Charming. So, anything planned for tonight?"

"Oh, Mattie, this will be a night we'll both remember forever." Alfred grinned his famous smile. "Trust me."

**To be continued…**

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><p>Next chapter's kind of boring, but not. There's no action, a lot of talking, and a lot of subtle hints. Keep your eyes peeled! ;)<p> 


	10. Swift Stories

Look who is back. I know; it's been forever. Things are starting to finally get back on track for us, and I have more time to write. I'm determined to finish this story. I promise. I just found the password I use for fan fiction, and your reviews made me continue. I hope to update as much as possible. But since my old laptop died, I have to rewrite the story. Things might be slow, but I will finish this!

Oh, and there will be two songs sung during this chapter. Let's see who can name them.

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><p>Chapter 10 – Swift Stories<p>

"So, what's first on our list?" Matthew asked as he put a marshmallow on a metal stick.

"Well, I thought after we made s'mores, we could tell ghost stories or something."

"But, Al, you know how you get when we tell stories like that."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Alfred split a graham cracker in half. Matthew lifted up his glasses to briefly sweep over his eyes. The American tested the marshmallow before sticking it between the crackers and chocolate. He bit into it, the marshmallow oozing out the other side. He tried to catch it before it landed on his lap, causing Matthew to crack a smile.

"So…" Matthew pulled his burnt marshmallow out of the fire and blew on it. "Summer's half over all ready."

"I know!" Alfred groaned. "Stupid bike accident."

"Hey, if you would've worn your helmet."

"Hey, if you wouldn't have let the air out of my tires."

Matthew closed his lips tight. This was obviously not going to get them anywhere. He stuck another marshmallow onto the fire. "So, are you ready for that scary story yet?"

"I was born ready." Alfred's eyes challenged the Canadian. Matthew knew it didn't take much to scare his teen neighbor, but he concocted a good one tonight. Too good to pass up.

"There is a tunnel under the old railroad tracks just to the west of the Queen Elizabeth Way in Niagara Falls. It is known locally as the Screaming Tunnel. A path wanders through the tunnel and then up to an empty field on the hill. But the field was not always empty."

Alfred's eyes widened as he munched down on his snack. Matthew's heart pounded in his chest as he continued.

"At one time, a large farm house stood in the field at the top of the hill, and in it lived a happy family. Then one night, the house caught fire. A young daughter was trapped in the house, and the only way to escape was through a wall of flames. The brave young girl covered her face with her arms and ran into the fiery doorway. Her long hair and her long nightgown began to smolder as she burst through the flames and rushed out of the house."

The s'more fell from Alfred's hands, his eyes lit up in horror. Matthew wondered if he should stop now, lest he wanted Alfred holding him the whole night. However, he knew now that he had gotten into creepy territory, the American teen would not let him rest until he knew the end, even if the ending was not all that happy.

"When the night air struck her smoldering clothing, it burst into flames, enveloping the girl in a raging inferno. The girl screamed in agony and ran blindly down the hill, away from the fire-stricken house. She staggered into the tunnel under the train tracks, her screams echoing and re-echoing through the night. Overcome by the flames, the girl fell to the floor of the tunnel, wailing in agony. She rolled frantically on the floor of the tunnel, trying to douse the flames, but her efforts were weak and ineffective. She was quickly overcome, and burned to death in the tunnel under the tracks."

Matthew lit a match in his hands. Alfred watched him with focused eyes, his mind trying to dispel the image of a girl burning to death under the tunnel. The match lit up Matthew's face, casting a haunted glow. The shadows flickered and animated his lifeless expression.

"After that night, anyone that dares strike a match in the tunnel under the tracks will hear the agonized death screams of the burning girl, and a ghostly wind will instantly blow out the match."

A breeze swept between them, blowing the match side to side. Alfred watched the flame, his mouth hung open in a silent scream. The trees seemed to cry as their leaves were blown side to side. Matthew looked down at the match and grinned. He blew it out, earning a horrified scream from his neighbor.

The Canadian boy let out a shrill laugh. Alfred power dove into him, knocking the two to the ground.

"She followed us here! She's going to kill us!" Alfred screamed, squeezing Matthew.

"Alfred, calm down! It's just a story!" Matthew tried to yell over his neighbor. Alfred's trembling body shook the two of them as the American nuzzled his head into the crook of Matthew's neck. "I knew we shouldn't have done this."

"Matthew, how could you tell me something freaky this late at night?" Alfred mumbled into the Canadian's chest.

"But you told me to," Matthew argued. He tried to stay angry, but for some reason, guilt over took his being. "Look, I'm sorry. If it makes you feel any better, it's not real."

Alfred's head shot up. "No, it does not, Matthew Williams." His face was twisted in a scowl. "Now I'll never go into a tunnel at night."

"Look, let's just forget the scary stories and do something else," Matthew sighed.

Alfred remained silent, his knees brought up to his chest. With a light sigh, Matthew flopped onto his back, alerting his neighbor beside him. Alfred's wide eyes stared down at the Canadian teen. He shook Matthew's body, and violet eyes met his gaze.

"Hey, are you okay?" Alfred asked. "Because if you're going to sleep, I want to be beside you to protect you. You know, in case you angered that little girl's spirit by telling her story."

"I'm not sleeping, Al. I'm stargazing."

Alfred's eyes turned to the night sky. He stared up at the stars, their luminosity flickering every once and a while.

"Hard to believe we're just a star in the sky," the Canadian continued, his eyes trained on the lights above them. Alfred stole a glance down at the boy and lay down on his back as well. He let the soft breeze blow his hair around, the grass tickling his cheek.

"I know, right?" the American agreed. He smiled as he pointed up to the constellations. "Remember when we were little, how we used to try and communicate to the aliens with a flash light?"

Matthew smiled at the memory. "And how we saw one of the stars spinning, and you freaked out and ran screaming to your house like a girl."

"I did not!" Alfred grumbled with a whine in his voice.

"Did so." The Canadian smiled.

"Well, if I screamed like a girl, you screamed like a banshee."

The Canadian's mouth hung open slightly. "I don't remember that."

"Well I do." Alfred gasped as one of the stars above them moved. He pointed up to them, his face lighting up. "Look, Mattie, a meteor shower!"

"They did say there would be one this week," Matthew returned in awe. The two boys stared up at the stars, watching the lumps of rock create patterns in the sky. The night seemed so peaceful, just the two of them. Even the wind had left them alone.

Matthew stole a glance at his neighbor, who had a grin from ear to ear. He couldn't help but smile beside him, his eyes turning back up to the sky. He forgot the meteors would be passing over them tonight, but he was glad he was able to lie in the grass and stare up at them with someone, instead of staring from his window.

"It's calming, isn't it?" Matthew continued after a long pause.

Alfred hummed in recognition. The shower lasted for a good fifteen minutes before they disappeared in the black of night. However, Alfred continued to stare up at the sky, his body paralyzed by the sheer tranquility of their environment.

Matthew remembered when they would sit outside and try to find all the constellations. They knew where they were by heart, but the two would try to point them out before the other. After that, his mother would bring out his karaoke machine, and the two of them would sing along to their favorite music. The Canadian reached down in his pocket, pulling out his iPod. He plugged an earphone in his ear and started clicking through the songs.

The noise alerted Alfred beside him, and he turned his head to face Matthew. "What are you looking for?"

"Something to sing along to," Matthew replied and handed an earphone to Alfred. He clicked one of his favorite songs and set the iPod down at his side.

"_If I die young, bury me in satin. _

_Lay me down on a, bed of roses. _

_Sink me in the river, at dawn. _

_Send me away with the words of a love song."_

Alfred's eyes lit up in recognition. "I know this song!" Matthew continued singing.

"_Lord makes me a rainbow, _

_I'll shine down on my mother. _

_She'll know I'm safe with you when she stands under my colors."_

Alfred joined in.

"_Life ain't always what you think it ought to be, no. _

_Ain't even gray, but she buries her baby. _

_The sharp knife of a short life."_

The two began singing together, their voices harmonizing.

"_I've had, just enough time. _

_If I die young, bury me in satin. _

_Lay me down on a, bed of roses. _

_Sink me in the river, at dawn. _

_Send me away with the words of a love song. _

_The sharp knife of a short life, _

_well I've had, just enough time._

_And I'll be looking right, when I come into your kingdom. _

_And now my life has just slip through the screen. _

_And I Never felt the breath of a woman. _

_But it sure felt nice when I was holding her hand. _

_There's a girl here in town says she'll, love me forever."_

Alfred's voice trailed off. Matthew continued.

_Who would have thought forever could be severed by-"_

The Canadian's head turned to face Alfred, the lyrics dying off his lips. Alfred's eyes were trained up at the sky. Matthew switched the iPod on pause and rolled over to face the American teen.

"I'm sorry, Al," he apologized. There was no answer from the American. "I didn't think."

"It's okay," Alfred replied, a light smile on his lips, but it soon disappeared.

"No, it's not okay," Matthew argued.

Alfred chuckled. "Dude, it was an honest mistake. I'll get over it."

Matthew couldn't help but wonder. He rolled onto his back once again and let out a heavy sigh. There was a moment of silence between the two before Alfred grabbed Matthew's iPod.

"What are you doing?" The Canadian boy questioned as he sprung up. Alfred continued slipping through his songs until he found one he liked.

Matthew listened intently for his neighbor's choice. After a deafening silence that seemed to last for hours, the music began to play.

"_Friday night beneath the stars,_

_In a field behind your yard,_

_You and I are painting pictures in the sky."_

Matthew joined in.

"_And sometimes we don't say a thing;_

_Just listen to the crickets sing._

_Everything I need is right here by my side._

_And I know everything about you_

_I don't want to live without you."_

The two began singing at the top of their lungs. Some dogs started barking in the distance, but the two teens could care less.

"_I'm only up when you're not down._

_Don't want to fly if you're still on the ground._

_It's like no matter what I do._

_Well you drive me crazy half the time;_

_The other half I'm only trying to let you know that what I feel is true._

_And I'm only me when I'm with you."_

Alfred's voice cracked from singing so loud, and the two began laughing hysterically. Matthew began to cough as they were singing, but the two never stopped. Alfred felt his voice die in his throat as Matthew sat up, coughing violently.

"Mattie?" He questioned as he sat up beside him.

Matthew shook his head. "Just swallowed my spit wrong. I'm fine."

Alfred watched Matthew cough for the next minute or so. The Canadian shook his head and sighed.

"You sure you're okay?" Alfred questioned.

"Yeah, Al, I'm fine," Matthew replied with a smile. He felt his chest tighten up again, but he resisted the urge to cough.

Alfred furrowed his eyebrows and looked at his watch. Matthew's mother opened the window from her room.

"_My little Matthew, if you're going to wake the neighbors, at least sing decently,_" She spoke with a teasing smile.

"_Thanks mom_," Matthew shot back. Alfred smiled and waved as Matthew's mother greeted him.

"We really should get some sleep or something," Matthew spoke as he rolled out his sleeping bag. Alfred unzipped the tent and popped in.

"You're not sleeping outside, are you?" he asked.

"It's too hot in the tent," Matthew whined. "You're nuts."

"No, I'm safe," Alfred muttered. He then pulled out his sleeping bag as well and laid it beside Matthew.

"What happened to the tent idea?"

"If you're going to sleep out here, I have to make sure nothing gets you. Like a bear or something."

"Or the girl from the burning tunnel. Good night, Alfred," Matthew rolled over on his shoulder as he heard Alfred's teeth chatter behind him.

"Mattie, you're an ass sometimes, you know that?" the American teen whined behind him. Matthew pretended as if he was asleep.

The Canadian boy couldn't help but smile. He felt Alfred's back rest right up against his, their shared body heat causing him to overheat in his sleeping bag.

"Al-"

"It's cold out here."

"No one said you had to sleep out here."

"I'm not leaving you alone. Are you nuts?"

"Partially."

There was a moment of silence between the two.

"See you in the morning," Alfred mumbled. Matthew felt the smile fade from his lips. He tried his best to go to sleep, but the raging inferno next his sleeping bag kept him awake. He felt his forehead begin to sweat as he unzipped the bag.

Alfred had already slipped off into sleep. The Canadian let the cough he held in that time pass his lips before laying back down and trying to get some rest.

**To be continued…**

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><p>Remember, reviews are love, and keep me writing!<p> 


	11. Swift Alliances

Quick update for you! I told you all I'm still serious about this story. Not much fluff in this chapter, but it's going to lead to a few more events that could move the plot forward. Keep your eyes peeled!

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><p>Chapter 11 - Swift Alliances<p>

Summer seemed to fly away faster than the two could've imagined. Seeing as they only had a month and a half to catch up with a year's worth of time, the two had a lot of unfinished business with each other.

Alfred made sure to dress in his best first day outfit. He adjusted the jacket hanging over his shoulders and placed his clip on sunglasses over his glasses. His white shirt stuck to his torso, the hot summer air causing his skin to chafe under the jacket. He tightened his belt buckle and slipped on a pair of brown lace up boots. With one final tug on his laces, he tied them into a double knot and walked out to his garage.

His fingers ran over the birthday gift his mother gave to him: a Ducati Monster 696. It wasn't the best bike out there, but he settled for it. The red shine of the bike reflected a confident 17 year old man back to its rider. He strapped on his American flag themed helmet with a bald eagle on it to his head. His ripped jean pants swung over the bike, and he turned the key in the ignition. The bike rose to life, the purr vibrating the whole garage. He opened the garage door with his remote opener and began backing out of the driveway.

Matthew had already begun pedaling to school on his bike. Alfred shook his head. He offered the lad a ride on his bike to school, but the Canadian declined. He finished backing out of the driveway and roared down the street. Matthew turned to watch his neighbor drive by. The American waved, but Matthew pretended to ignore the teen. Alfred continued riding, the sun peeking over the green trees lined up along the sidewalk.

Matthew sighed, wondering what school would be like without his friends, Willem and Ivan this year. The senior Dutch boy had graduated and was helping his father run a local pharmacy their family owned. Bella, his sister, was still going to be there, but he doubted the girl would even glance in his direction. And Ivan decided to be homeschooled for this year. Something about not wanting to kill half of his class for stupidity or something. Looked like it was just him against the world this year.

The Canadian locked his bike against the metal bars by the school and unstrapped his helmet. His eyes caught hold of a young boy being pushed into a row of trashcans. A group of boys held back another cursing teen, looking almost identical to the boy pushed into the trashcan, save for the green eyes.

"You bastards!" he heard the one being held captive yell. One of the boys, a senior judging by his varsity jacket, picked up the other from the trash cans by the shirt collar. He continued yelling, "Touch one hair on his head, and you're-"

He was cut off by a swift punch to the stomach. The boy doubled over, coughing.

"Fratello!" The other twin called out. Matthew hid behind a nearby tree, spying on them for the right moment to step in.

"Now, now, Lovino. I'll take good care of your brother until you give me the money you owe me."

"I already told you," Lovino choked out, "I don't owe you anything."

The boy clicked his tongue. "And I told you, everyone in this school pays me for breathing the same air as I do."

The twin managed to slip out of his shirt and took off running. The senior clutched the shirt and chased after him, his two friends cheering him on. Matthew watched the two racing toward him. He looked around for something, anything useful. He picked up a fallen branch and waited for the boy to run by him. Matthew swung and clobbered the senior right in the face. The senior's feet ran out from under him, and he crashed into the ground. The twin boy skidded to a stop and watched Matthew drop the stick.

"Th-thank you," the boy spoke with a smile. He could see the tears streaming down the frightened boy's face.

One of the other senior boys held Lovino back as another charged at Matthew. The two crashed down to the ground and Matthew wrestled under his weight. The branch was inches from his fingertips. A punch came down on his right cheek. He could hear the boy pleading Matthew's attacker to leave the Canadian alone.

Lovino somehow managed to slip out of the senior's grip and flip him over his shoulder. He raced forward and slammed into the man holding Matthew down. The two tumbled over and fought in the grass. Matthew stood up just in time to grab the other senior from coming to his friend's aide. He threw him back into the tree. The boy faltered for a moment and raced toward Matthew. The Canadian jumped up and grabbed onto a branch above him. He swung his feet and kicked the senior in the chest. The senior staggered backward and whacked his head against the tree trunk. He slid down into an unconscious lump.

Matthew turned around just in time to see a muscular blonde man pulling the senior off of Lovino. He held him at the collar, his ice blue eyes twisted in anger.

"Get out of here," he growled and threw the man back. The senior whimpered before taking off toward the school. Lovino sat up and wiped his bloody lip.

"I was doing just fine by myself," he grumbled.

"Not where I was standing," the man replied. Matthew noted his strong German accent.

"Lovi! I was so worried about you!" his twin wrapped his arms around Lovino and buried his face into his brother's shoulder.

"Dammit, Feliciano, people are watching," Lovino grumbled, but made no effort to remove his brother's grip.

The German turned to face Matthew. The Canadian, who was used to Ivan's icy stare, was slightly unnerved but cool on the outside.

"Thank you for helping them out," he spoke.

"No problem," Matthew replied, his eyes wide. Someone had actually acknowledged something he did. The German didn't get much of an introduction done, for the senior returned soon with the principal.

"That's them! Those are the guys who beat my friends up!"

"You four, in my office," the principal motioned them to follow. Ludwig looked ready to argue, but followed his orders. Feliciano helped Lovino stand and walked beside him. Matthew caught the senior's eyes as he walked by. There was definitely revenge in his near future.

The four were escorted into a small room with an orderly desk in the middle. There was a chair for each of them. Lovino flopped down first, his arms crossed and face expressing his annoyance. Feliciano sat down gingerly beside him, slightly crouching down in his chair and avoiding the principal's eyes. Ludwig sat tall, his hands lying on top of his legs. Matthew took the last chair and rested his back against it.

The principal stared out his window, watching the other students mingle. "You know, when I took on the foreign exchange program, I expected to have no problems. Yet on the first day, three of its twenty students have managed to land a seat in my office for unnecessary violence."

"Unnecessary?" Lovino stood up. "Those bastards were about to knock the living shit out of my brother and me!"

"Sit down, Mr. Vargas," the principal growled. He looked over his shoulder at the defiant teen. Lovino balled his hands into fists and did as he was told. "And I will have no foul language in my office. Is that clear?"

Lovino muttered something in Italian, making his brother cringe. The principal's eyebrow rose slightly.

"And you," he addressed Matthew. "I expected better from someone of your grade point average. Better from you period."

Matthew felt three sets of eyes fall upon him. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"If it wasn't for him, my brother and I could've gotten hurt," Feliciano argued in a soft voice. The German boy's hand reached over and held onto the quivering Italian's hand. "Please, go easy on us. It was all self-defense anyway."

"So, Mr. Williams was defending himself?" the principal spoke.

"Well, not exactly," Matthew replied. "I was trying to help them out."

"Well, though your cause was noble, I'm afraid I'll have to suspend you for the rest of the week."

"That's bullshit!" Lovino growled.

"You already have a detention for foul language, Mr. Vargas. Don't risk a second one."

"Don't Lovi. It's not worth it," Feliciano muttered.

Lovino scowled and stood up, leaving the room. Feliciano called after him and chased him out the door. The principal pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

"I'm sorry for the trouble we have caused," the German spoke.

"Just keep your friends out of trouble, Mr. Beillschmidt."

The German nodded before taking his leave. Matthew followed shortly after, wondering if he should argue his punishment. He walked out to the doors and slung his fallen backpack over his shoulders. As he made his way over to his bike, he noticed the chains down on the ground. He cursed under his breath and looked for any sign of the thief. As he spun around, he groaned. His bicycle was hanging in the tree he was hiding behind, with the senior boys standing under it, waiting for him to take the bait. He could feel their eyes trained on him.

"Problem?" the leader stepped forward.

"Please, give me back my bike," Matthew hissed.

The boys laughed. "Please? What do you think we run a daycare? Nah, don't think so."

His fist balled up. "I'll ask one more time. Give it back."

"Or what? You'll bore us with etiquette classes?"

Matthew drew in a breath, knowing he already had suspension. He shrugged and started to walk away. "You can have it. I don't need it anymore."

The three boys were taken aback. "Excuse me! We didn't dismiss you yet."

"Well, I'm done here," the Canadian returned. "You three don't have the balls to take me on anyway."

"Why you!" One of them charged toward Matthew. He smirked and ran into the school. The halls were thick with fellow classmates, struggling to get to their lockers and classes. The limber Canadian moved through the crowd with ease. He could hear the shouts and insults behind him as the three boys attempted to pursue him.

"Mattie?" He heard Alfred's voice at some point. He heard his neighbor shouting at the teens that followed Matthew, but there was no evidence he had tried to stop them. Matthew shook his head; typical school Alfred.

As he turned the corner, he crashed into another person. A girl to be exact. He stood up and apologized faster than he could register where he was. She smiled at him, finding his clumsy, polite manner cute.

He turned just in time for the boys to catch up. He was about to run when they reached out and grabbed his backpack. He lost his footing as the boy drug him back and wrapped an arm around Matthew's neck.

"Thought we wouldn't catch you, huh? You're more trouble than I thought."

"Hey, let him go!" the girl yelled.

"Just stay out of this, girlie," the boy grumbled.

"Girlie?" she hissed. She slammed her hand into the locker, breaking it off its hinges. The boys froze as she stared up at them, a death glare in her eyes. "You want to run that by me again?"

Their pride seemed to waver in front of their fear for a brief moment. The one chuckled. "Well, what do you know? A female with some bite. I like that in a woman. Maybe I should show you who to hang out with. Then the real fun will begin."

She smirked and shook her head. "First off, I'm taken. Second off, I'd get out of here if I were you. Not many people survive my rage."

The boys laughed. "Well, aren't you a cutie! I'm sure I can persuade you to leave your man as soon as my-"

She punched him in the face, knocking him back into the two other boys. His grip on Matthew's neck slipped, and the Canadian took in a deep breath of air.

"Hey, thanks, Miss-"

"Skip the miss and just call me Elizaveta," she spoke with a wink. The other two boys were about to rush toward her when Elizaveta screamed as high as she could. Within minutes, there seemed to be an army of concerned teachers and curious students rushing toward them. Matthew covered his ringing ears and the two boys recoiled, rushing out of there with their friend as fast as they could.

Elizaveta finally stopped, a few of the students running to her and asking if she was okay. Matthew recognized two of the boys as Lovino and Feliciano. They explained to Elizaveta how the three seniors had been after them earlier today, and she held them close. As Matthew tried to slip away, Feliciano grabbed his arm.

"I'm sorry my brother and I caused you so much trouble," the Italian spoke. "How can we make it up to you?"

Matthew thought for a second. "I really don't need anything, thanks. They're nothing I couldn't handle."

Feliciano seemed unconvinced. "Come over to Lovino and my house tonight. I'm making pasta for my host family. Please?"

Matthew was going to decline, but something about Feliciano's eyes kept his lips shut. He smiled and nodded his head. The young Italian wrapped his arms around Matthew, speaking half Italian and half English. Lovino pulled his brother off, muttering something about crushing Matthew. He couldn't help but smile.

"Like, he should totally come and hang out with us sometime," a girl with short, blonde hair spoke. "I'd totally love to have him around our table. He's a hero."

"I wouldn't mind," Elizaveta added. "Anyone who helps out Feli and Lovi are good in my book."

The group seemed to crowd around Matthew, asking him all sorts of questions. He could barely keep up. The bell rang for everyone to get to their next class, and slowly, the group of students walked away. Matthew was just about to leave, remembering he had been suspended, when a hand grabbed his shoulder. Instinct caused the Canadian to turn around and smack the kid in the face.

"What the hell?" came a shrill voice.

Matthew sighed. "Sorry, Al. Didn't expect-"

"What was that all about?" Alfred held his bleeding nose.

"Well, maybe if you would pay attention to me every once and a while, you'd know," the Canadian barked.

"What are you talking-"

"Don't play stupid with me! You saw those guys chasing me. I know you did. Yet you didn't do a thing to help me. Not one! Thanks a lot, Al." He bumped into Alfred's arm as he stormed by, causing a puddle of blood to fall from Alfred's hands. Matthew left his bike up in the tree and ran home as fast as he could, bitter tears stinging his eyes.

**To be continued...**

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><p>Remember, reviews are love! :D<p> 


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